The Definition of Family
by thebeautifulbadass
Summary: Liz adopts a child and, with Samar's help, discovers that her definition of family is something she'd never expected. Lizvabi multi-chapter, set after 2x12. Every ship deserves a fluffy kid fic! Disclaimed, as usual.
1. Chapter 1

_Author's Note: Okay folks, I wrote most of the first chapter of this story in September and then completely forgot about it. I rediscovered it near the beginning of January and have been working hard on it for the past few weeks. It's not 100% perfect and it's not my best work ever...but I've worked on it long enough and it's time I put it out there in the world. I think there are things that could probably be improved (have I mentioned that I'm a perfectionist?), but I adore the story and there are sections of writing in here that I'm incredibly proud of. This somehow ended up being my longest fanfic to date, and it's been fun to write. I hope you enjoy, friends! :)_

…..

Liz burst through the front door, gun raised, her heart racing at the sight of the two dead bodies lying bleeding on the patterned antique rug, the cozy lamplight in the room incongruous with the terror that had taken place here so recently. Ressler appeared right behind her, and the two of them quickly began scanning the first floor of the house. Samar headed up the stairs to the sound of Liz and Ressler shouting, "clear," as they finished checking the rooms downstairs. Ressler leaned down to check the bodies, and Liz followed Samar upstairs, efficiently searching the few rooms on the second floor. Suddenly Liz heard Samar call out to her softly from the last room. "Liz, get in here."

She hurried in to make sure Samar was okay and saw her picking up a tiny toddler, a little girl with wispy blonde hair who didn't look older than two years old. The toddler was nervously sucking her thumb, and her blue eyes were wide, tracks of dried tears covering her round red cheeks.

Liz's eyes widened as she walked toward them. "Hi, sweetie. Everything's gonna be okay. You're okay," she murmured, taking the girl from Samar's arms and holding her against her hip, stroking her soft, fine hair.

Liz looked at Samar, who gave her a tiny reassuring smile, placing her hand on her shoulder gently. "You stay here with her. She can't go downstairs right now."

Liz nodded and watched Samar leave the room before turning her gaze back to the scared little girl in her arms. She smiled at her and the little girl reached up, poking her finger into Liz's dimple.

Liz moved to sit down in a rocking chair in the corner of the room next to a bookshelf. "What's your name, sweetie?" Liz asked.

The girl babbled a little before managing to get out, "Sa-wa."

"Sara? That's a lovely name. I'm Liz," she replied, pointing to herself. "My name is Liz."

Sara gazed at her, looking a little overwhelmed and confused. "Wiz," she repeated.

"That's right." Liz smiled, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head.

"Mama?" Sara whimpered, her tone questioning.

Liz's heart broke. She remembered seeing a beautiful blonde woman dead on the floor downstairs. Sara's mother. And the man would likely have been Sara's father. Tears pricked at her eyes and she held Sara closer. She began to gently rock the chair back and forth, and forced herself to think. She had no idea how to tell a two year old that their parents were gone forever. But she knew she needed to keep Sara relaxed. Liz started softly singing The Anniversary Waltz, holding Sara against her chest, moving her thumb against the girl's tiny arm in a soothing motion.

She was at work, on a case, holding a strange child whose dead parents were lying downstairs, but suddenly the adrenaline of the search wore off and she felt her eyes drifting shut as she kept singing. She could feel herself relaxing at the sound of Sara's breaths evening out. And before long, she drifted to sleep with the little girl safely in her arms.

TBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBL

Liz woke to the feel of someone's hand on her arm, and she heard Samar's voice murmuring her name. Her eyes fluttered open quickly as she remembered where she was and what had happened. She couldn't believe she'd actually fallen asleep at the scene of a double homicide.

Samar was kneeling in front of her, her hand still resting on her arm softly. "Hey," Liz whispered, blinking the sleep from her eyes.

"Hey," Samar said quietly, smiling. "Her name is Sara."

"I know. She told me," Liz replied, smiling tenderly down at the sleeping little girl.

"She has no living family and her parents didn't leave a will. She'll have to be put into foster care for now," Samar informed her.

Liz's eyes stung at the thought of this precious little girl being put into a string of foster homes. She was overwhelmed with love for her already, her desire to be a mother, thinking about how excited she'd been to start a family by adopting a child with Tom. And before she even had time to think it through, she blurted out, "I'll adopt her. Will they let me adopt her?"

Samar's eyes widened in surprise. "Liz, are you sure? You should think about it before making a decision."

Liz shook her head. "I'm tired of thinking about things. I've wanted to be a mother for years, and I was so close to adopting a baby last year…" she trailed off. "I want to do this," she added firmly.

Samar's brow furrowed in concern, but she nodded, squeezing Liz's arm before standing upright. "I'll go make a call, see what I can do. Be back soon."

Liz smiled at her gratefully, then turned her gaze back to the still sleeping girl in her arms, trying to calm her racing heart and quell her soaring hopes.

TBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBL

Two hours later, Liz was walking outside into the chilly fall air with Sara in her arms. Child services had agreed to the adoption after reviewing her files from the adoption firm she'd gone to with Tom. The bodies had been removed from the living room by the time they left, and she was relieved that she hadn't had to see the parents Sara had lost again. The memory of that first sight of them would be ingrained in her memory forever. She hugged Sara tighter into her chest, a duffel bag of the little girl's clothes and belongings slung over her shoulder.

Samar jogged to catch up with her, another bag on her own shoulder, and Sara's folded crib in her arms. "Liz, you two come stay with me until you can find a new place. It will be much more comfortable than the motel."

Liz gaze shot toward her in disbelief. "No, Samar, I couldn't. That's way too much of an imposition."

Samar smiled at her. "I insist. Please."

Liz thought for a moment, but then nodded, a grin spreading across her face. "Thank you," she whispered before pressing a kiss to Sara's blonde curls.

"You're welcome. Now let's get out of here. It's late," Samar replied, leading Liz toward the car they'd already set up with Sara's car seat (which they'd found inside the Toyota in the garage of the small house).

TBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBL

When they arrived at Samar's apartment, Liz was exhausted. Sara had been asleep on and off all evening, so odds were that she wouldn't sleep as much as Liz wanted her to that night. Samar took one glance at Liz and frowned, noticing how tired and overwhelmed she was. She set up the crib as quickly as she could next to the couch and then reached out to lift Sara from Liz's sagging arms. "Here, let me take her. You go get ready for bed. You look exhausted."

Liz was too tired to argue, so she simply nodded and wandered down a hallway until she found a bathroom. She splashed water on her face, rinsing her makeup off, before tying her hair up into a ponytail. She used the toilet, washed her hands, and stripped off her jacket, tossing it into a pile on the tile floor just as Samar knocked on the door. Liz opened it and Samar's head popped in.

"There's an extra toothbrush in that cabinet," she told her, pointing to the vanity next to the sink. "Towels and washcloths are in the closet right outside if you want to take a shower. I'll go find you something to sleep in."

Before Liz could reply, Samar's head had disappeared from the crack in the open door. She returned within seconds, holding a pair of sweatpants and a baggy T-shirt, handing them to Liz in a neatly folded stack. "Here, these should fit you."

Liz smiled. "Thanks. Is, uh- is Sara okay? Is she still asleep?"

"She's fine, and still asleep," Samar replied with a smile. "The crib is set up the way it was at her house. I'll go keep an eye on her while you do whatever you need to do in here." She turned and headed back out to the living room where she dimmed the lights above the sleeping toddler.

By the time Liz came padding out of the bathroom, Samar had gathered sheets and blankets and pillows and was setting up a makeshift bed on the couch for Liz, right next to Sara's crib. Liz smiled, noticing that Samar had put the pillow on the end closest to the crib. "Thanks for all of this, Samar. I mean it. You didn't have to do any of this."

A small smile tugged at Samar's lips and she shrugged. "Four hours ago, you had no idea you were going to be a parent. I know you're overwhelmed. This is the least I can do."

Samar's words sunk in through her dazed brain. She was a parent. A few hours ago she didn't know this little girl existed, and now she was her mother. Overwhelmed was barely scratching the surface. But Liz didn't want to break down in front of Samar. They weren't _that_ close. Plus Sara was asleep a few feet away; she didn't want to risk waking her and upsetting her. So she swallowed the lump of emotion in her throat and blinked back the tears in her eyes, nodding resolutely at Samar.

Samar could tell Liz was fighting back tears, and she knew that Liz was enough like herself that crying in front of others, showing that kind of intense vulnerability in front of a friend from work, was out of the question. She walked past Liz, squeezing her shoulder reassuringly. "Try to get some sleep. My room is at the end of the hall if you need anything."

Samar dimmed the light as far down as it would go, then disappeared. Liz heard her bedroom door opening and shutting down the hall and she stood in the semi-darkness, looking around before gazing down at Sara.

Her daughter.

Tears began to stream down her cheeks and she crawled under the blankets Samar had left pulled back on the couch, tucking herself between the sheets. She was too tired and overwhelmed to think anymore. She just needed to sleep, and then maybe she wouldn't feel so flustered and emotional in the morning.

TBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBL

Morning happened to be around three-thirty a.m., which is when Sara woke up wailing and crying hysterically. Liz shot up from her light slumber on the couch and rushed to the side of the crib, picking Sara up carefully and bouncing her on her hip. "Shhh," she comforted over and over. "It's okay, Sara. It's okay."

"Mama," the little girl sobbed, her face scrunched and red, already soaked in tears and snot. "Want mama," she cried repeatedly.

"I know, baby girl, I know you want your mama." Her heart ached for Sara. She didn't even notice when tears began to fall from her own eyes. "Do you remember me? I'm Liz. Do you remember Liz?" she murmured, stroking the little girl's hair softly.

Sara just kept crying, and Liz didn't know what to do. What were you supposed to do for a two-year-old who had just lost her parents? How were you supposed to explain that?

Liz knelt down to open one of the bags, pulling out the well-loved teddy bear she'd brought from Sara's house. She held it in front of the little girl's face until she noticed it and reached out her tiny hand, grabbing the bear and clutching it to her tiny body.

Sara calmed down slightly once she had the teddy bear. Liz sat down, holding Sara to her chest, and began to softly sing The Anniversary Waltz again. It had worked before and she didn't know what else to do. She closed her eyes, quietly humming near Sara's ear, stroking her back. Within minutes, Sara had stopped crying, cuddling closer into Liz's chest and hugging her bear more tightly. Liz kept singing and humming until Sara had drifted to sleep in her arms. She kissed the top of her head and continued stroking her back gently.

Liz opened her eyes and looked up, noticing Samar leaning against the wall at the entrance to the living room, her arms crossed loosely, smiling softly. Liz was glad it was dark because her cheeks felt hot and she knew she was blushing, embarrassed that Samar had seen such a vulnerable, intimate moment. How long had she been standing there?

"I got up to see if you needed help, but when I saw you, I didn't want to interrupt," Samar explained quietly. "I'm sorry for the intrusion."

Liz smiled and shook her head, then carefully stood up and placed Sara back in her crib, still clutching her teddy bear. She turned back to Samar, who was walking towards her. "You okay?" Samar asked from a few feet away, her arms crossed more tightly across her chest.

Liz nodded. "Yeah, just a little overwhelmed. You were right, I probably should have thought about it a little more before jumping in."

"I think you would have made the same decision. I can already tell that you're a wonderful mother," Samar replied easily.

Liz smiled, shyly looking down at the floor, crossing her arms across her chest, unconsciously mirroring Samar's position.

Samar continued, aware of Liz's discomfort. "And I'll help you with anything you need. I used to take care of my younger brother when we were growing up."

Liz looked back up at her. "You really don't have to do this, Samar, I swear. I'll be fine. Reddington bought me an apartment last week. I turned it down, but I'm pretty sure he'll be more than happy if I change my mind." She was uncomfortable accepting help. She was always willing to give it, had even reprimanded Red for being unable to accept it. But she felt embarrassed, like she had to do this by herself to prove to herself that she wasn't a complete failure after everything that had happened, everything she'd lost, in the past two years.

Samar raised an eyebrow. "Reddington bought you an apartment?"

Liz snorted. "Yeah. He's insane. But I need a place to live, so I might as well take it."

Samar nodded. She was smiling, but she looked oddly disappointed. Liz filed that away for later thought when she wasn't so exhausted. Sometimes being able to read people so well was a hassle. "Perfect timing. The offer still stands though. For help."

"Thank you." Liz smiled gratefully. "But I promise we'll be out of your way as soon as I talk to Red about the apartment."

"You're truly not in the way. But I'm glad you have a place you'll be able to call home." Samar smiled sadly. "I'm going to try to get a bit more sleep. I'll see you in the morning, Liz."

And then Samar was disappearing back down the hallway, leaving her alone and confused in the living room. After a few seconds, Liz climbed back into her couch-bed to soak up as much sleep as she could get.

TBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBL

Liz drifted into awareness several hours later from a deep sleep. She opened her eyes and turned her head toward the sound of Sara's voice. Samar was holding her on her lap, seated at the kitchen table while Sara messily fed herself oatmeal. "Yum, yum, yum," Sara babbled in-between bites. Samar was chuckling quietly. Liz grinned sleepily as she watched the two of them together.

"It's yummy?" Samar asked with a smile.

Sara turned to look up at Samar, pointing a sticky finger at Samar's chin. "Wha's you-uh name?"

"Samar."

"Sa-maw," Sara replied.

Samar chuckled. "Yep, that's right. Now finish your oatmeal. Aren't you still hungry?"

Sara nodded, turning her attention back to her food. After another big bite of oatmeal, she spoke with her mouth full. "Whey-uh mama?"

Liz could see Samar stroking her hair gently before answering. "Your mama can't be with you anymore, darling girl. I know you miss her, but she had to go live in heaven. She loved you very, very much and she would be here if she could be. But do you remember Liz? She's going to be taking care of you now. She can be your second mama."

Liz wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. Part of her wanted to burrow beneath the blankets and hide and pretend her life hadn't changed forever. She was scared. But she also wanted this. She wanted a daughter, a family.

So she pushed the blankets off of her legs, shuffling out of her makeshift bed. Samar, hearing movement, glanced back at her, shooting her a smile, and then Liz came up behind her, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Thanks for letting me sleep, I must have really needed it."

"Of course. This little girl is no problem at all, huh, cutie?" Samar replied, kissing the top of Sara's head. Liz smiled, feeling more tears pricking at the backs of her eyes. She couldn't believe Samar was being so wonderful. She knew that Samar had her back, but that was always at work, when they were in danger in the line of duty. But _this_? This showed that Samar really cared.

Liz squeezed her shoulder before letting go and sitting down in the seat next to them. "Good morning, Sara. What do you have there?" she asked cheerfully, a smile on her face.

Sara looked up, her mouth smeared with the sticky goop. "Oh-mea-uh."

Liz grinned. "Yeah? What kind?"

Sara dragged the spoon through the bowl for a moment before looking back up at Liz. "App-uwh." She reached for the cup of milk in front of her and Samar helped her lift it and take a drink. Once the cup was set back down, Sara looked at Liz again, eyes wide. "Wiz," she said, pointing at her.

"That's right, that's my name." Liz smiled, happy that she remembered after all the turmoil.

"Wiz new mama?" Sara asked, absently bending her sticky fingers in and out of a fist.

Liz nodded, and her voice trembled a little when she spoke. "Yeah, sweetie. Yeah, I'm your new mama. I can't replace your mama, but I will love you just as much, I promise."

"Mama Wiz," Sara repeated before digging back into her oatmeal.

Liz looked up, overwhelmed by the pairing of those two words, and met Samar's gaze. Samar smiled at her, her face practically glowing, and Liz felt an odd but familiar rush in her chest, quickly breaking their eye contact and looking at Sara as a distraction.

Samar sensed Liz's sudden awkwardness, and intervened. "I've got her. You can go take a shower and find something to wear in my closet if you'd like. Do you want me to call Reddington?"

Liz looked back up and smiled gratefully, shaking her head. "No, that's okay. I'll call him right now. Thank you for watching her." She ran her fingers through Sara's hair. "I'll be right back, sweetie. Have fun with Samar, okay?" she added, before hurrying away from the table, grabbing her cell phone on the way to the bathroom.

It was three minutes after seven a.m. She supposed Red never slept, much less slept in, so she pressed his number on speed dial, sitting down on the edge of the bathtub, leaning her elbows on her knees.

"Good morning, Lizzy." Red sounded so cheerful. All the time.

"Morning," she replied.

"I'm assuming this is a business call? At seven a.m. on a Saturday?"

Liz rolled her eyes at his obvious sarcasm and cut to the chase. "I'd like to accept the apartment. At the Audrey."

There was a stunned silence on the other end that only lasted a second before Red pulled himself together. "What made you change your mind, Lizzy?"

"It doesn't matter. I just wanted to let you know. I'm going over to check out the place today before I move my things in," she replied.

"I would love to meet you there and show you around. Would that be all right with you?"

"Sure. I can be there in about an hour, hour and a half?" Liz offered.

"I'll see you there," Red stated before ending the call.

Liz sighed, resting her head in her hands for a minute, before retrieving a towel from the hall closet, stripping, and letting her muscles relax under the hot spray of the shower.

TBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBL

An hour and twenty minutes later, Liz found herself walking up to the tall apartment building where Reddington was waiting by the front doors, dressed impeccably as usual. Liz pulled the key he'd given her out of her bag, dangling it in front of his face. "You won this round, Reddington," she joked, feigning annoyance.

He chuckled. "I've never been so relieved to be victorious."

He led her inside, showing her the amenities in the common area downstairs before leading her into the elevator and up to the top floor. They walked to the end of the hall, and Liz unlocked the door. She drew in a breath as she pushed the door open.

It was gorgeous. Floor to ceiling windows along one wall, looking out over the city and the Potomac. Fully furnished and pristinely decorated to fit her taste. Spacious.

She rushed ahead of Red, opening doors, inspecting every room in the apartment. Two bedrooms. Thank goodness. She smiled as she saw the smaller bedroom, imagining Sara in it.

"Why so interested in the _guest_ bedroom, Lizzy?" Red asked suspiciously. She had barely paused in the other rooms of the house, hurriedly taking everything in, but he noted that she was staring at the guest bedroom with a dreamy smile on her face.

She turned to him sheepishly, her face flushed. "We may need to redecorate in here," she hinted.

Red's brow furrowed as he tried to piece things together. "Lizzy?"

She took a deep breath and met his gaze. "I adopted a little girl last night." Reddington didn't speak, so she nervously continued. "She's about two years old, her name's Sara. It was completely unexpected, but her parents were murdered and I just couldn't let her go into foster care. I know it's crazy and probably a stupid decision, but-"

"It's not a stupid decision, Lizzy. You will be an incredible mother," Red replied, placing his hands on her shoulders and smiling broadly. "I'm so very happy for you, sweetheart."

"Thank you," she said, glancing down at her feet.

"Where is Sara now?" Red asked curiously.

"With Samar. We stayed at her place last night." Her mouth quirked up in a small smile. "She's been a big help, and they're really sweet together."

Red chuckled. "I wouldn't have expected Agent Navabi to be sweet with children, but it's a nice surprise."

Liz had wanted to keep things professional with Reddington, but she could feel her defenses sliding away. "Would you like to meet her? Maybe in a few days once things have settled down a bit?" she offered.

Red looked genuinely surprised for a moment, but he quickly nodded, a tiny smile pulling at his lips. "I would love to, Lizzy." He drew her into a hug. "Thank you," he whispered in her ear.

"You're welcome," she replied, wrapping her arms around him in return. It felt nice to know she wasn't completely alone, even if she wanted to prove that she could raise Sara by herself.

TBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBL

Liz hurried back to Samar's apartment as quickly as she could, not wanting to make Samar take on all the responsibility of _her_ child for longer than necessary.

She was buzzed inside the building, and when Samar answered the door, smiling brightly, Sara toddling toward them on unsteady legs with her arms spread wide in front of her and a grin on her face, Liz felt the oddest sense of home, of _rightness_ , descend upon her.

Liz bent down to scoop Sara into her arms, Samar's voice bringing her out of her reverie. "How did it go with Reddington?"

Liz returned her gaze to Samar, noting the subtle flicker of varying unidentifiable emotions playing across her face beneath her smile.

"It went well," Liz replied happily. "The place is beautiful and Sara will have her own room, and there's an incredible view overlooking the city and the river, and I told Red about Sara and he was really sweet about it and I told him he could meet her soon and…" she trailed off, realizing she was babbling, speaking too quickly. She cleared her throat, forcing her brain to refocus on the woman in front of her, urging her profiler's instincts to kick in. "Sorry, yeah, it was good. How'd it go here?"

Samar smiled warmly at the little girl in Liz's arms, reaching out to gently smooth her soft blonde hair. "Everything went just fine. She's been fed, bathed, dressed, fresh diaper, the works. We even had time to read your favorite book, huh, Sara?"

Sara nodded, smiling around the chubby thumb in her mouth. Liz smiled down at her. "Wow, sounds like you've had a productive morning," she mused, running her finger softly across Sara's round cheek, before looking back at Samar. "Thank you so much for taking care of her, Samar. I really appreciate it."

"Anytime, Liz, I swear," Samar replied unhesitatingly.

Liz stood there in the doorway, unmoving. She knew it was time to get out of Samar's hair, but there was an unusual tugging in her chest telling her _don't go_.

"Well, um," Liz began, looking past Samar to Sara's things strewn around the room already. Having a kid meant messes, that was for sure. "I guess we'll get packed up and head over to the new place."

As her eyes returned to Samar's face, Liz just managed to catch her expression transitioning into a happy mask from something that had looked a lot like disappointment. Disappointment for the second time… And hadn't the other time been after her first mention of moving into her own place? Had Samar expected them to stay here? But…why would she _want_ them to stay here? Liz's brow furrowed in confusion.

"If you need anything, you'll let me know?" Samar asked, mask still in place.

"Yeah, of course," Liz replied distractedly, still trying to make sense of the situation, of Samar's reactions. "Do you want to come see the apartment? It actually might be easier to get moved in with an extra pair of hands."

Samar's eyes, which had been the dead giveaway to Liz that she'd been faking her smile, instantly seemed to brighten ever so slightly, transforming the mask into real happiness. She nodded. "Absolutely, let me go take a quick shower and we'll be on our way."

Liz walked further into the apartment, setting Sara down on the living room rug next to her toys. "Take your time, there's no rush," she assured her, watching as Samar nodded and disappeared down the hallway, listening as the water started running in the bathroom, thinking about that tugging in her chest a couple minutes ago, and wondering why she felt so relieved not to be leaving without Samar.


	2. Chapter 2

Liz watched as Samar walked to the driver's side of the car, no questions asked, after loading the crib and bags in the trunk. Sure, it was her car, but Liz had driven it that morning. She opened her mouth to say something, buckling Sara into her car seat in the backseat, but then forced it shut again, deciding that it wasn't really worth the effort; based on Samar's actions in the past eighteen hours, Liz was fairly certain she'd just insist. She hopped into the passenger seat, smiling at a waiting Samar.

"Where to?" Samar asked, smiling back at her and switching on a low heat to warm up the chilly car.

"Um, well… I guess my motel so I can get my things and check out of there once and for all," Liz replied, her soul doing back handsprings inside her at the realization that she didn't have to stay in that hellhole anymore or sleep on that lumpy, uncomfortable bed ever again.

"All right, enter the address into the GPS so I know where I'm going," Samar said, indicating toward the gadget on the dashboard.

Liz paused in the middle of buckling her seatbelt, and then decided she _should_ say something after all. "Do you want me to drive? I'm going to be bossing you around all day. I don't want you to feel like my servant."

Samar huffed an amused laugh. "No, no, it's okay, I don't feel like your servant," she assured her, turning the key in the ignition.

"'Kay, if you're sure," Liz answered, locking the buckle in place and quickly tapping the motel's address into the GPS.

"Whey-uh we going?" Sara asked, half excitedly and half concerned, from the backseat.

Liz turned to smile reassuringly at the little girl. "We're going to move into our new house! Won't that be fun?" she asked excitedly.

"I missh muh ol- house," Sara whimpered, her eyes filling with tears.

"I know you do, sweet girl, but you'll like your new house too, I bet. You can even help decorate your room. What color do you want the walls to be?" she asked, trying desperately to cheer her up, to keep her from crying.

"Puhpuwh!" she exclaimed, seeming to forget about her sadness instantly.

"Purple it is," Liz replied with a relieved smile.

"Wha- cuh-wuh you-uh woom?" Sara asked, swinging her feet up and down against the seat beneath her.

"Um…" Liz thought back to her tour of the apartment. "I think it's light blue."

"Wha- bow Samaw woom?"

Liz chuckled under her breath and looked over at Samar, noting her tightly clenched knuckles, a pale white against the steering wheel. Samar shot the little girl a smile, but Liz stepped in to explain. "Samar isn't going to live with us. She has her own house, the one we just left, remember?"

"Oh," Sara replied, looking a bit confused as she processed this information.

Liz asked her questions to distract her from the Samar-based line of questioning and to keep her occupied on the short drive to her motel. _The_ motel, she had to keep correcting herself. Thankfully, it wasn't hers anymore.

What was her favorite color? Purple, obviously.

What was her favorite animal? Lions.

What was her favorite food? Cottage cheese, oddly enough.

What was the name of her teddy bear? Freddy.

"Freddy the Teddy?" Liz asked with a huff of laughter.

"Fweddy the Teddy Bea-uh!" Sara exclaimed through her giggles as Samar made the final turn into the dingy motel's parking lot.

Laughter bubbled from Liz's throat, turning back toward the front of the car while Samar pulled into a parking space. As her laughter began to die down and Samar put the car in park, she inadvertently made eye contact with Samar who was smiling oh so sweetly, more sweetly than she'd ever seen her smile before (they didn't get out of the office much). Liz could feel her cheeks heating up, but from what she wasn't sure. She hurriedly glanced back at Sara, pleading with her cheeks to cool down.

She popped open her door after a few seconds before finally looking back to Samar. "Can you stay here with her? This shouldn't take long."

"Sure. Maybe we'll find some music to listen to. How about that, Sara?" Samar asked, turning to smile at the little girl.

Liz heard a thrilled cheer from the backseat as she hurried out of the car, thanked Samar profusely for the millionth time, and hunched her shoulders inside her jacket against the cold in the air before rushing down the sidewalk to the motel room where she'd been living.

She closed the door behind her and leaned against it, allowing herself a few moments of quiet. She couldn't escape the feeling though, the one that had been following her around all morning. The one that had tugged at her chest and made her cheeks flush. She didn't know what it was, but it was distracting, and the last thing she needed was a distraction right now. She tried to distract herself from her distraction, but the only other thing on her mind, besides Sara and her new status as a mother, was her realization earlier that it seemed Samar wanted her and Sara around, wanted to be involved. It wasn't much of a distraction; instead it brought back the tugging and rushing feeling in her chest.

All she wanted to do was take a break to hide out in this room for a while, just disappear, but she knew she couldn't. Samar and Sara were waiting in the car. So she forced herself to flip on the light and start shuffling around the room, gathering the few belongings she'd brought with her instead of putting in storage when she'd moved into the motel.

Once she'd hastily stuffed her duffel bag and suitcase and done a quick final walk-through to make sure she hadn't forgotten anything, she paused by the door, her hand gripped tightly around the handle of her large roller-suitcase.

She thought about Samar's white knuckles clenching the steering wheel. The disappointment on her face when Liz mentioned getting her own place so quickly. The smile she'd shot at Liz this morning from the breakfast table, Sara eating happily on her lap. The concern on her face when she'd asked Liz if she was okay in the middle of the night. How sweet she was with Sara. How much she'd done for her, and for Sara, and how much it seemed she wanted to do all of it and more.

When she felt that now familiar floppy tug in her chest, she forced herself to stop thinking, open the door, and walk back to the car to load her bags inside.

TBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBL

An hour and a half later, after checking out of the motel and stopping at a Babies 'R Us, the trio found themselves standing outside the Audrey, Sara between them, gazing up in awe at the tall building. "My new house?" she asked, clearly intimidated.

Liz huffed a laugh and squeezed her hand. "Not the whole thing, just part of it. You'll see." She picked her up and resituated the strap of one of her bags on her opposite shoulder, walking toward the building. Samar followed behind, carrying the crib. The rest they'd come back for in shifts, once Sara was safely inside and given a tour of her new home.

Sara marveled at the luxurious lobby, the shiny marble columns, the glittering walls, the soft ding of the elevators as the doors opened to carry them up to the top floor.

When Liz unlocked the front door, swinging it open before them and walking inside, she heard Samar's impressed gasp from behind her. "Wow, Liz, this is beautiful," she murmured softly, following her into the center of the living room. She set the crib down, leaning it against the couch, and moved toward the floor to ceiling windows, eyes wide, mouth agape, as she gazed out over the Potomac, noticing the monuments downtown visible in the distance off to the left.

"New house? New house?" Sara asked excitedly, swinging her legs restlessly until Liz set her down on the floor, keeping hold of her hand.

"This is it! Want to see your room? We're going to paint it purple just for you and set up your crib and your toys and your books and it'll be _so_ cozy," Liz replied, smiling down at the little girl who was looking around the room with wonder.

"Yeah, wanna see my woom!" Sara squealed, the biggest smile spreading across her face.

Liz's heart soared. She just wanted to make her smile all the time, to make this sweet little girl happy, to not let what happened to her family define her life.

She pointed down the hallway, and started walking toward Sara's room, the little girl giddily running along next to her. She led her inside and Sara glanced around, looking a bit perplexed.

Liz knelt down beside her. "Don't worry, we'll redecorate. It'll be perfect, I promise."

Samar had followed them down the hall, and from her place leaning against the doorframe, added, "I can't wait to see it once it's purple."

Sara looked back at her, smiling in surprise to find that Samar was in the room too. "My woom!" she said, pointing at nothing in particular.

Samar chuckled. "Yeah, it is!" She watched as Sara turned her attention back to Liz, saw Liz give the little girl a tight squeeze. Her stomach fluttered at the bright sparks of joy in Liz's eyes, the iridescent smile spreading its way across her face, sharpening her dimples into focus.

When Liz turned to shoot Samar a smile, she was no longer standing in the doorway, and Liz couldn't help but feel a sting of disappointment at the tiny momentary loss, so insignificant it hardly even counted… so why did it feel like it did?

TBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBL

Liz had found Samar back in the living room, just like she'd known she would, and they'd gone about taking turns making trips down to the car, bringing up the suitcases and shopping bags and boxes until everything was safely inside. They unpacked everything, hanging Liz's clothes in her closet and folding them into her dresser, finding perfect places for the few personal belongings she'd had in the motel, setting up Sara's crib in the living room temporarily until they had a chance to paint her room.

Liz folded her arms across her chest satisfactorily, smiling as she looked around her new apartment.

"All set?" Samar asked with a grin.

"Actually, no. I think it's time I made a real home, you know? I'd like to go get the rest of my things out of storage," she admitted.

Samar laid her hand gently on Liz's shoulder, smiling kindly. "All right, let's go then," she offered.

Liz's brow furrowed. "No, no, it's okay. You've done enough, Samar, really," she insisted.

"Are you kidding? We're just getting started. We'll stop at the storage unit after the hardware store."

"The hardware store?"

"The paint. For Sara's room."

Liz swallowed. She honestly felt like she might break down if Samar continued being so helpful and kind and lovely. She tried to speak, but it came out quiet, weak. "You don't have to-"

"I know. I want to, Liz." She smiled so genuinely that Liz had to turn away after a moment, picking up Sara from her spot spread out on the floor with her toys in order to distract herself.

"Thank you," she said earnestly once she felt composed enough to face Samar again.

"Of course. Let's go pick out some purple paint. Sound good, Sara?"

Sara turned to Samar, her eyes widening with excitement. "Yay, puhpuwh!"

Samar headed toward the front door, grabbing her purse from the hook on the wall, and Liz followed with Sara in her arms, pondering her mysterious, so-very-surprising coworker for perhaps the millionth time in the past twenty-four hours.

TBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBL

Samar drove again, of course. To the hardware store, where Liz carefully selected three various shades of purple for Sara to choose from and the three walked out laden down with two jugs of rich lilac paint and all the necessary painting supplies, and then from the hardware store to the storage facility on the edge of town where Samar helped Liz carry boxes and lamps, a rolled-up rug, a wide-screen television, and Reddington's music box to the car.

Sara was still attempting to hum along happily to the music – The Beatles – which they'd left playing in the car so she wouldn't get bored, when Liz and Samar got back in and buckled their seatbelts.

Samar glanced over at Liz as she put the car into drive. "Done?" she asked.

"Um…" Liz thought for a moment, and then glanced back at Sara before turning to meet Samar's gaze. "Maybe one more stop. Hold on." She looked back to Sara again, smiling at how happy she seemed, even if it was only a temporary happiness covering up the sadness of her loss. "Hey, Sara?" she asked, turning down the music.

Sara stopped humming, focusing on Liz's face curiously.

"Have you ever met a dog?" Liz asked, trying to find the perfect mix of excitement and cautiousness, not wanting to influence the little girl.

Sara nodded, beaming. "Wuv puppy!" she exclaimed.

"Would you like to meet one today? One that's very special to me?" Liz asked, unable to keep the hope from leaking into her voice.

Sara continued nodding, even more enthusiastically than before, if that were possible.

"Great!" Liz replied, filled with a sense of thrilled relief at the way her last-minute thought was maybe, just maybe, going to work out. This was the way she could really, truly, finally put her home back together. She turned to Samar, reaching for the GPS. "My friend Ellie's house. I'll text her and let her know we're coming," she said as she typed in the address.

"As you wish," Samar replied, pulling out of the parking lot and following the digital voice's instructions.

TBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBL

When they pulled up to the curb outside Ellie's house in Georgetown – in fact, not too far from the Audrey – Liz's heart was thumping hopefully. _Please, please, please let them get along. Please,_ she thought to herself over and over.

She'd texted Ellie, who was now opening her front door and waving to her as she got out of the car. Liz waved back, smiling, happy to see her friend. She turned to Samar. "Could you get Sara out? I'd like to give her a full heads up," Liz murmured quietly.

Samar nodded, watching and smiling as Liz ran up the walk and wrapped her arms around her friend, before getting out slowly, giving Liz time to talk to Ellie, slowly unbuckling Sara from her car seat.

Liz pulled away from Ellie's embrace. "I, um, I adopted a little girl," she admitted, beaming, blushing at the look of shock on Ellie's face. "It was unexpected, and it just happened yesterday, but I wanted to see how she and Hudson get along, 'cause I just, I miss him, you know?"

Ellie nodded, still surprised, placing her hands on Liz's shoulders and squeezing supportively. "Of course, Liz, of course. I'm so happy for you," she assured her, smiling.

At the sound of the car doors shutting, Liz turned to find Samar walking Sara up the path, hand in hand. Ellie was fighting back tears, her hand covering her mouth. "Liz, she's beautiful."

Liz happily huffed a laugh, turning back to look at her _child_ , still unable to comprehend that this was her life so suddenly and bizarrely. She knelt down to pick Sara up and stood there in front of one of her dearest friends, making introductions she couldn't believe she was making. "This is Sara," she said, smiling at the little girl's sweet face.

"Hi, Sara, oh, you are such a cutie pie," Ellie gushed, unable to hold back a giddy laugh.

"Sara, this is Ellie. She's one of my best friends in the world," Liz told the little girl, watching as her eyes wandered back and forth between the two of them.

"Eh-wee," she repeated.

"That's right!" Ellie replied. "It's so lovely to meet you, sweetheart." She reached out to smooth Sara's blonde locks, still very obviously astonished that Liz suddenly had a daughter.

"And this is Samar, a friend from work," Liz added, turning to look at Samar over her shoulder, not wanting her to feel excluded.

Samar smiled and stepped forward, shaking Ellie's hand. After exchanging pleasantries, Ellie urged them inside. "Come on in, come on in. Someone will be very happy to see you, Liz." She smiled at her friend before opening the door and standing back to let them walk inside.

"Hudson?" Ellie called.

Samar thoughtfully took Sara from Liz's arms, watching as Liz called for her dog. "Hudson, come here, buddy!"

Immediately at the sound of Liz's voice, a fluffy dog came spiraling around the corner excitedly, leaping at her legs, whimpering, limbs flailing with uncontainable joy. Liz knelt down, wrapping her arms around the wriggling dog as best she could, stroking his fur as he nuzzled his face into her chest and then, when silent happy tears began to fall down her cheeks, he began licking the tears away, kissing her sloppily again and again.

"I missed you too, buddy," she said, giggling through her tears, petting him, holding him until he began to calm down.

Hudson buried his face in her stomach again, and she scratched between his ears gently, lovingly, before looking over her shoulder when she heard the sound of Samar's voice speaking reassuringly to Sara, who was clutching at Samar's jacket, her eyes wide, frightened.

"It's okay, Sara, he's just happy and excited to see Liz! He's so happy, see?" Samar told her, pointing to the dog, who couldn't seem to get close enough to Liz.

Liz smiled at her daughter. "Don't be scared, sweetie. He won't hurt you." She watched as Sara's grip on Samar's jacket loosened, as her face relaxed into an expression of casual wariness.

"Do you want to meet him?" Liz asked, repeating her mantra again and again in her head – _please, please, please_.

After a momentary pause, Sara nodded, just barely, still cautious. Samar knelt down and helped Sara stand between her and Liz. She reached out to stroke Hudson's furry head, trying to show Sara that it was okay.

"Hey, Hudson," Samar said, grinning. She honestly hadn't even known Liz had a dog; her heart broke for everything she'd lost and given up in the past two years. But now was the chance for her to reclaim her life, to have everything she wanted, and Samar wanted more than anything to help make that happen. She'd do anything, really, to see more of those smiles cross Liz's face.

Hudson unburied his face from Liz's stomach to see who this new person was who was petting him, looking up at Samar, panting happily as he recovered from his bout of excited energy. Samar turned to smile at Sara. "See? He's so sweet!"

Sara, slightly less wary now, cautiously stretched her hand out until the tips of her fingers were brushing the top of the fur on Hudson's head. He began to lift his head to sniff at the little girl's fingers and she pulled back quickly, cradling her hand.

"It's okay," Liz reassured her. "He just wants to sniff you because he's never met you before." She held her hand out to show her.

Sara reached out again, oh so slowly, and Hudson sniffed her fingers, bumping his nose against her palm and then quickly swiping his tongue across.

Sara squealed and giggled, but didn't pull her hand away this time. She must have felt bolder, braver, then, reaching further and spreading her palm out flat on his head, rubbing clumsily back and forth.

Samar glanced at Liz, her heart in her throat at the look of pure, relieved joy on Liz's face. A split second later, Liz happened to look up and their eyes met. Samar smiled, wanting more than anything to be closer and closer and closer, but instead (after Liz shot her such a devastatingly heartbreaking smile that she couldn't take it anymore) forcing herself to pull her eyes away, back to the dog and the little girl, who was now kneeling down next to him and using both hands to stroke him – one on his head and one on his back – while he made repeated attempts to lick the bit of bare skin peeking out of her sleeve.


	3. Chapter 3

After a quick round of coffee with Ellie, they said their goodbyes – with promises that Liz and Ellie would see each other again soon – and loaded Hudson and his crate and his bed and his toys and bowls and food into the empty crevices of the car, which was quickly filling up after their many stops of the day.

Before they knew it, Samar was pulling up outside the Audrey once again, and they restarted the process of moving in, taking Sara and Hudson inside, and then alternating trips up and down over and over again, retrieving Liz's boxes and belongings and Hudson's various accouterments and the paint and supplies.

Despite her excitement over the dog, Sara was nearly falling asleep by the time they got inside the apartment. Liz glanced at the clock. It was one o'clock – probably a good time for a nap anyway. She settled Sara into her crib and she quickly fell asleep to the feel of Liz running her fingers gently through her hair.

Hudson had settled into his bed next to the couch. Apparently it was his naptime too. Liz smiled. She had a family. She didn't need Tom, or… whoever he was. Tom wasn't real. She didn't need anyone except her daughter and her dog and her friends. Her incredible friends, some who she really needed to make more of a priority, and some who she hadn't even known were there, not really.

She glanced around the room, and when she noted that Samar wasn't in it, she wandered down the hall in search of her.

Samar was in Sara's room. Of course she was. Somehow she'd managed to move all of the furniture into the center of the room by herself, spread the tarps and opened the paint and was already rolling lilac all over the walls.

By herself.

Of her own volition.

Liz could feel her eyes stinging and she bit her tongue to hold back her tears, but it wasn't enough this time. She'd known if Samar continued this way, she'd break down, and apparently that time was _now_.

A soft noise, somewhere between a sob and a whimper, escaped her and she hid her face behind one hand, embarrassed. And suddenly Samar was there, a reassuring hand on her arm. "Are you okay?"

Liz huffed a laugh in disbelief through her tears. "No. I mean, yes, I am, but no," she admitted, confusing even herself.

Samar ran her hand up and down Liz's upper arm, a gesture meant to comfort, unsure what, if any, further physical contact Liz would be comfortable with.

But then Liz's head dropped further into her hand, heavy, and she allowed herself to sob, to fall forward into Samar, still hiding her face, her hand a barrier between her tears and Samar's thin shirt.

Samar was surprised for a moment, but quickly recovered, gathering Liz into her arms, rubbing soothing circles into her back. She didn't speak; she knew she didn't need to. She knew why Liz was crying. She _knew_ and she held her tightly, wondering if Liz could feel the heavy thumping beat of her heart in her chest.

An indeterminable amount of time later – a blur of tears and comfort and the smell of Samar's own shampoo in Liz's hair – Liz had calmed somewhat, but she still didn't pull away, instead wrapping her own arms around Samar, hooking her chin over her shoulder, and whispering, heartfelt, next to her ear. "Thank you. For everything, all of this. Thank you."

"You're welcome. But thanking me isn't necessary, Liz. Really. I'm here for anything you need." Liz was silent. Samar reluctantly disentangled herself from their embrace, leaving her hands on Liz's shoulders, unwilling to completely give up touching her so suddenly. "All right?"

Liz was looking at the floor, slightly embarrassed, but after a moment she brought her eyes up to meet Samar's, smiling softly, nodding.

Samar smiled reassuringly. "So here's the plan. We're going to finish the first coat," she said, glancing around the room. "And then we're going to take a break to eat something. Then we'll finish painting, get this room set up, make sure everything is unpacked and just the way you want it, and then we're going to order a pizza to celebrate. Sound good?"

Liz nodded again, overwhelmed with gratitude for Samar's generosity, brushing a few fresh tears from her eyes.

"The rest we'll figure out tomorrow," Samar added. Liz opened her mouth to protest, but Samar wouldn't let her. "No arguments. Whatever doesn't get done today, I'll help you with tomorrow."

Liz honestly seemed to be at a loss, so with a small smirk on her face, Samar reached behind her for a paint roller, holding it out. She tilted her head toward the wall, a twinkle in her eyes. "Come on, let's make this room purple."

Liz grinned, taking the roller from Samar. She filled a tray with lilac paint and watched Samar climb up the step ladder to continue where she'd left off, all the while trying not to think about the way her heart had jumped in her chest at the touch of their fingers.

TBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBL

Hours and hours and hours later – after they finished painting, after Sara woke up from her nap, after they finished setting up Sara's bedroom and cleaned up the mess, after Sara helped them unpack Liz's books and photo albums, framed photos and knick knacks, DVDs and coffee mugs, after they found a place for the lamps and the rug and the music box and the TV (which went in her bedroom as Reddington had already outfitted the living room with a new state-of-the-art television) and everything else that needed a place in her new home, after all of Hudson's things were set up (his leash over a hook by the door, his crate in a corner, his bed by the couch, his food and bowls in the kitchen, his toys in a basket beneath the coffee table), after a pizza dinner in the kitchen and some time spent relaxing on the couch watching Sara playing with Hudson's ears, after taking Hudson out for a short walk around the neighborhood, after giving Sara a bath and putting her to bed – Liz found a bottle of wine while Samar was in the bathroom, poured two glasses, and headed to the balcony.

She leaned her forearms against the railing, a glass of wine in each hand. She took a deep breath of the chilly air, letting it wake her up, re-energize her, the breeze blowing strands of hair across her cheek. She stared out at the twinkling lights of the city, the dark ribbon of the river, the stream of headlights and brake lights moving across the bridge below. She let her eyes flutter closed, focusing on the feel of the breeze brushing her skin.

The sound of the door sliding open brought her back to herself, and she opened her eyes, turning to smile at Samar, holding out one of the wine glasses.

Samar accepted it with a small smile and a quiet thank you, stepping forward to lean against the railing next to Liz. They each took a sip of their wine, content to be silent, melting into the quiet hush of the wind and city sounds far below after their busy, exhausting day.

Long, companionable minutes later, Liz let out a soft huff of laughter. Samar glanced over curiously.

Liz met her gaze and smiled, a mixture of amusement and gratitude. "So I really can't say thank you, huh?"

Samar smiled softly, her gaze moving back out to the distant lights. "You can say thank you." She looked down into her glass, eyes locked on the pale liquid. "But I don't want you to feel like you owe me anything. And to be honest, the more often you thank me, the more I get the feeling you're surprised that I care about you." She paused, finally gathering the courage to meet Liz's gaze once again, noting the concerned crease in her brow. "I don't want that to surprise you."

Liz swallowed the lump of emotion growing in her throat. "Samar…" she began.

Samar shook her head, looking back down at her wine, speaking before Liz could continue. "I know you've had a difficult year, that your attention has been elsewhere, but I've been there for you from the beginning, Liz. I've cared about you since I first joined the task force."

Samar's eyes remained downcast, flickering between her wine glass and the lights of the moving cars below – anywhere but at Liz.

Liz silently, wordlessly moved her hand to cover Samar's where it was clutching the railing, curling her palm around and squeezing tightly. Samar's expression didn't change, but Liz could feel her hand stiffen, her fingers briefly gripping the railing more tightly.

Liz smiled reassuringly, her hand feeling warm and right against Samar's. She ignored the fluttering in her chest, the thrum of her heartbeat, and murmured, "I know." She searched Samar's eyes, wishing she could see into her thoughts, then gave her hand another reassuring squeeze and said it again: "I know."

Samar smiled, pleased by Liz's response, but looked down again, her cheeks flushing, embarrassed by her own vulnerability. Liz didn't move her hand for quite some time, and they finished their wine in comfortable silence, both unaware that the other's heart was beating just as fast, just as hard.

Realizing she'd run out of reasons to stay, Samar spoke. "I should probably go. It's been a long day; I'm sure we could both use some sleep."

Liz nodded, successfully hiding her disappointment at the words. She turned back to the door, sliding it open and stepping to the side so Samar could walk inside first. Once she'd closed and locked the door behind them, she followed Samar into the kitchen. She began to rinse the wine glasses under the faucet, keeping her eyes on her hands. "You can stay here if you want. If it's easier, you know, since you just had wine and you're tired," Liz offered, placing the wine glasses inside her new dishwasher and latching it closed before turning back to look at Samar.

"I think I'll sleep better in a bed after the day we've had," Samar replied, smiling, before quickly adding, "Unless you want me to stay, of course."

"Oh, no," Liz answered immediately. "No, it's okay. That's not what I meant."

"I'll be back tomorrow though," Samar promised, moving toward the entry hallway and slipping her jacket on. "We need to pick up your car from wherever it is. The Post Office?" she asked as Liz joined her in the hall.

Liz crossed her arms across her chest, nodding.

"And I'm sure we'll think of a few more things that need to be done. Groceries, maybe," Samar continued, gathering her hair into her hand and pulling it out from beneath her jacket, then letting it fall back around her shoulders. "Ten-thirty? Eleven?"

"Sure, ten-thirty," Liz replied with a soft smile. "Thank you," she murmured, "and that doesn't mean I'm surprised; it just means I'm grateful." And then before she could think about it or talk herself out of it – or more accurately, before she even really knew what she was doing – she took a couple steps forward and leaned in, placing a kiss on Samar's cheek. She lingered perhaps a moment too long and then took a step back, knowing without a doubt that she was blushing.

She tightened her arms across her chest, but didn't look away from Samar's gaze. Samar was visibly surprised, but trying valiantly not to show it, so Liz spoke to distract her from her apparent inability to form words.

"Hey, before I forget – can you let me know if you hear anything about the crime scene before I do? I'd like to be able to go get the rest of Sara's things. Her toys, her books, the rest of her clothes, some personal stuff, like family photos–" Liz listed, ticking items off in her mind.

Samar placed her hand on Liz's shoulder. "Of course." She smiled. "Goodnight, Liz." And then she turned and opened the door, stepping over the threshold.

"Goodnight," Liz murmured quietly, her heart skipping a beat at the look on Samar's face when she smiled back at her over her shoulder. She closed the door and turned the lock, frozen in place, one hand on the door, for a minute before forcing herself to walk back through the apartment. She switched off the lights and then patted her leg to get Hudson's attention. "Come on, buddy, let's go to bed." He dutifully, happily, lumbered out of his dog bed and followed her down the hall, the tags on his collar jingling merrily.

She peeked into Sara's room, smiling at how peaceful her baby girl looked in sleep, before quietly grabbing the baby monitor and carrying it into her bedroom, Hudson trailing behind. She stripped down to her underwear and slipped into her glorious new bed – Reddington really did have fantastic taste and apparently knew her well, too. She set the baby monitor on her nightstand next to her phone and pulled the blankets up, tucking them around her chest.

She turned off the lamp and rolled onto her opposite side. "Hudson," she called into the dark room, and immediately his furry body leapt onto the bed. She could feel his weight as he padded several steps across the mattress toward her before curling up beside her. She reached over, stroking his back, before draping her arm over him. She swallowed the lump in her throat and moved closer until she and the blankets were pressed against him, tightening her arm across his body. "I missed you, Hud," she whispered shakily.

His tail thumped against her leg once, twice, then stilled again. A single tear slipped silently from her eye and she blinked the wetness away, then focused on the rise and fall of Hudson's body beneath her arm, allowing herself to drift off to sleep.

TBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBL

She woke in the dead of night to the sound of Sara's wails through the baby monitor. She hoped desperately that once Sara was settled into her new life, these night panics would stop, but for now, she slipped into her purple bedroom, comforting her, telling her everything would be okay, murmuring that she was so sweet, and how much her mama had loved her, how much _she_ loved her, how sorry she was that she missed her mama and that her mama had to go.

Liz fell back into her own bed forty minutes later, Sara finally asleep again. Tears streamed down her cheeks and she buried her face in her pillow to muffle her choked sobs, emotionally exhausted. Having Hudson back to comfort her, to dry – or rather, lick – her tears, was a help, but she found herself wishing Samar had stayed. When she finally fell asleep, her mind was a haze of loneliness, sadness for her daughter, and thoughts of Samar.

TBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBL

Liz couldn't stop herself from beaming when, at ten-thirty on the dot the next morning, the sound of the buzzer indicated Samar's arrival. She pressed the button to let her in and scurried to the living room to distract her oddly ragged nerves with the sight of Sara propped up against Hudson, clumsily paging through a board book and making up a story to go along with the words.

"You're such a smart girl," Liz murmured, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of her head. "Auntie Samar is almost here," she told her, and smiled at the goofy excited grin that spread across the little girl's face.

"Samaw!" she squealed, immediately dropping her book to the floor, forgotten.

Liz scooped her up, laughing. "Yeah, I'm happy to see her too," she admitted, just as a knock sounded at the door. She hurried toward it, still ignoring her rapidly beating heart, and turned the knob, swinging it open to find Samar holding a cup from Liz's favorite coffee shop.

"Samaw! Yay, Samaw hea-uh!" Sara exclaimed, swinging her legs excitedly from her perch in Liz's arms.

Samar had already been smiling, but it grew, pushing her cheeks into perfectly round circles as she walked inside. "Hey, cutie pie! I'm so happy to see you!" Samar said, reaching up with her free hand to stroke the little girl's blonde wisps and leaning in to kiss her on the forehead.

Sara giggled cheerfully, pointing at her. "Auntie Samaw," she said, then moved her finger to stick it into Liz's dimple. "Mama Wiz." Liz moved her head to the side quickly to kiss her little finger, which only made Sara giggle harder.

Sara's attention returned to Samar. She swung her legs again, reaching out with her fingers stretched wide. "Mama Wiz happy uh see Auntie Samaw," she said happily.

Liz blushed instantly, knowing that Sara was repeating her words from just a minute ago, hoping against hope that it wouldn't fully make sense to Samar.

Samar looked a bit confused, but as soon as she met Liz's gaze, saw the flush of embarrassment on her cheeks, she knew exactly what Sara had meant. She tried desperately not to smile, to make sure her expression didn't change, but her mouth quirked up slightly on one side. "Yeah?" Samar asked Sara, stroking her hair again. "I'm happy to see her too." She could feel her own cheeks beginning to flush, and she kept her gaze firmly on Sara, adding "Happy to see both of you."

Suddenly Samar remembered the cup in her other hand and hurried to steer the conversation away from its current territory. She forced herself to look at Liz, holding up the cup so she would notice it. "This is for you. Vanilla lattes are your favorite, right?"

Liz managed to get out a "yeah" – quiet and cracked because she was so moved by the gesture. Why hadn't she noticed that Samar was right there, waiting to be her friend, all this time? How had it taken her this long to see that Samar cared? "Thanks, Samar, this is really sweet of you," she said, taking the cup with her free hand and kneeling to place Sara on the floor before taking a sip of the latte. She closed her eyes and hummed contentedly at the first warm swallow, as Sara toddled off to lunge at Hudson in an attempt to show off for Samar.

"How did you both sleep?" Samar asked, taking off her jacket and hanging it on the hook, as if she were at home, as if she belonged there, which filled Liz with a sense of peace, tinged with an odd hint of relief.

"Not bad. Reddington certainly doesn't skimp on the luxuries; that mattress is _incredible_ ," Liz replied with a smirk which promptly fell off of her face as she continued. "But Sara woke up in the middle of the night again, crying for her mom, and I was up with her for almost an hour. I'm just so worried about her, you know? I don't know how long it'll take for these night panics to stop," she admitted.

"I'm sorry, Liz, I should've stayed," Samar replied, her brow creased, her eyes sad, as she reached out to gently place her hand on Liz's arm.

Liz shook her head, smiling reassuringly. "No, no, it wouldn't have changed anything. And at least this way, one of us got a full night's sleep."

Something flashed in Samar's expression, but Liz couldn't identify it. It almost seemed like… guilt? She shook off the thought and took a breath to steady herself before speaking again. "You know, I was thinking last night after you left, about what you said, and I just want you to know that I'm here for you too. If you need anything. I mean, I don't know what's going on in your life, but I'd like to."

Samar's fingers gripped her arm more tightly for a moment, as if she were using Liz to stabilize her emotions.

"I'd like that too," Samar finally replied.

"Good." Liz smiled. "So, are you okay?" she asked, her smile turning into a mischievous smirk. "You've got a bit of 'dark circle' happening here," she said, lifting her finger and trailing it in the air around Samar's eyes.

Samar snorted and looked at the ground, trying to hide her smile. "I'm fine. I don't sleep well most nights, that's all."

Liz frowned, but decided not to press the matter. "Ah, so maybe you _should_ have stayed," she said, trying to continue the joking tone of their exchange. "The three of us could have been some sort of insomnia club."

Samar shot her a genuine smile. "I'll keep that in mind."

"Samaw, Samaw!" Sara interrupted them, calling from the living room where she was practically on top of Hudson.

They turned, and when they saw the two of them, they both had to stifle back their laughter. Samar followed Liz into the room and watched as Liz sat down next to them, placing one hand on Sara's head and one on Hudson's. "My favorite girl and my favorite guy. What more could I want?"

Samar stood, her arms crossed across her chest as if she thought the defensive stance would help protect her against her own emotions. But of course, nothing could. She smiled sadly as she watched them, wishing more than anything that she could be part of their family.

TBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBL

Later, after Samar had driven them to the Post Office to retrieve Liz's car, after they'd driven back to the Audrey to drop it off for the time being, after grocery shopping – which, they learned, was quite an adventure with a two year old – and after everything had been put away and Sara had fallen asleep for her afternoon nap, they found themselves once again standing next to Liz's apartment door.

"Are you sure you don't need anything else?" Samar asked, draping her jacket over her arm rather than putting it on – a small thing, but one that made her feel less like she was actually leaving when she so desperately wanted to stay.

"I'm sure, Samar." Liz smiled, reaching for her arm affectionately. "Go home and get some rest. You're not the one who adopted a kid. You deserve time off after all you've done for us the past couple days."

Liz's profiler mind kicked in as she noticed that familiar flicker of hurt and disappointment in Samar's eyes at the words she'd meant to be innocuous and playful. "You okay?" she asked. Samar seemed to stiffen, to close off, at her words. Liz hoped she was imagining it.

"I'm fine," Samar insisted with a smile. Liz could tell it was fake – there was no twinkle in her eyes, and Liz had noticed that when Samar smiled, _really_ smiled, there was always a bright spark of life, a spark of passion, impossible to ignore. (At least it was impossible for _Liz_ to ignore. She assumed everyone had noticed it. How could they not? It left her positively giddy every time she saw it.) But she decided to let the lie stand; she could sense that now wasn't the time to push boundaries.

"Call me if you need anything?" Samar continued, turning to the door and opening it, but unable to stop herself from looking back at Liz over her shoulder.

"Of course," Liz replied, smiling gently.

Samar nodded, her smile wavering slightly, and before Liz could even blink, she was gone, a closed door separating them. In the hallway, Samar allowed her composure to slip. After all, in the hallway there was no one around to see the tears just beginning to fill her eyes.


	4. Chapter 4

Liz had been given a week off work to get Sara settled in. She didn't hear from Samar on Monday. She didn't hear from her on Tuesday, or Wednesday either. And as much as she was falling in love with her daughter, enjoying her time with Sara and Hudson, beginning to feel so at home in her new apartment, she couldn't help but feel that something was missing.

She told herself she was being dumb. She barely knew Samar. They were hardly friends. Sure, they'd had a few days' worth of bonding, but in the grand scheme of things that was nothing…

Right?

Sara woke up crying – horrible, gut-wrenching howls – on Sunday night and again on Monday night and Tuesday night and Wednesday night, and each time, after it was over, Liz would fall back into her bed with an aching heart, tears soaking her pillows, holding Hudson so tightly he would begin to squirm in discomfort, which only made her feel worse.

When her phone rang around one o'clock on Thursday afternoon, she half expected it to be Red. But instead, it was Samar's name displayed across the screen. She picked it up, her hands almost shaking, and answered the call, holding the phone to her ear.

"Hey," she said, hoping she sounded casual, normal, no hint of the desperation that was making her chest tight.

"Liz." The sound of Samar's voice saying her name, even from the other end of a phone call, sent a wave of calm rushing over her for the first time all week. "The crime scene has been cleared from the investigation."

Liz closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Does that mean it's over? You got the person who did this?" she asked quietly, so hopeful. It wouldn't bring Sara's parents back, but it was the best they could do.

"Yes," Samar replied. "We have custody of everyone involved, Liz. Everyone."

Liz could hear the small smile in Samar's voice, and swallowed down the lump of emotion in her throat. "That's great news," she managed to get out, smiling as she blinked away her tears. "Really, really great. Thank you." She sniffed and swiped her hand across her eyes.

Samar was silent for a moment. "You're welcome. Arresting them was my pleasure. Though it took everything in me not to kill them."

Liz squeezed her eyes shut and laughed, wiping her cheeks against the fresh wave of tears. "Sara's missed you this week," she told her, sniffing again, attempting to get her emotions under control.

She could hear the small huff of laughter on the other end. "She has, has she?" Samar asked.

Liz smiled, cradling the phone closer to her face, glad she was only on the phone so Samar wouldn't see the flush on her cheeks. And, well, since she was only on the phone…. "Of course. I mean, I've missed you too. But Sara's asked about you every day." She bit her lip, a rush of nervous warmth consuming her while she waited for Samar's response.

Silence, and then a quiet whisper of air, and then: "I've missed you both. I was thinking we could go get Sara's things from the house tomorrow." Samar paused, then hurriedly added, "Without Sara, of course."

"Yeah, yeah, absolutely. I can find someone to watch her," Liz replied.

"And then maybe I could join you both for dinner?" Samar suggested.

Liz thought she detected a hint of nervousness in Samar's tone, but she couldn't be sure. "That sounds perfect," she managed to reply, having to remind herself to breathe normally.

"Good. I'll see you tomorrow, Liz."

"Yeah, see you tomorrow," Liz replied, almost in a daze as she heard the dial tone indicating that Samar had ended the call. She lowered the phone to the counter, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath, unable to keep the smile from creeping across her face, so wide it almost made her cheeks ache.

She quickly sent a text message to Reddington, inviting him over that evening to meet Sara, then wandered into the living room, playfully calling out, "Sara, guess who's coming over tomorrow?"

TBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBL

Reddington arrived promptly at five-thirty that evening, and Liz grinned when she opened the door, seeing him standing there in his jacket and fedora, holding a rather large stuffed lion.

She held the door open in invitation, laughing as he walked inside and set the lion on the floor to take off his jacket. "Red, how on earth did you know lions are her favorite animal?" she asked in amused exasperation.

Red simply tilted his head to the side and smiled, draping his jacket over one arm and plucking his fedora from his head. "I have my ways, Lizzy."

She shook her head back and forth, still smiling, and reached out to take the jacket and fedora, hanging them on the hooks behind him.

Red picked up the lion and followed Liz into the living room, where Sara was on the couch giggling uncontrollably at the children's program Liz was allowing her to watch on the huge television Red had purchased.

He stopped behind the couch and waited while Liz knelt in front of the little girl. "Hey, sweetie, do you remember what I told you about Uncle Red?"

Sara turned her attention from the screen to Liz, nodding and smiling around the chubby fingers she constantly had in her mouth. Liz paused the program and smiled. "Uncle Red came over to meet you! And he brought you a present!" she told her, shaking her leg playfully.

"A pwesent?" Sara squealed excitedly.

"Yeah! Come on, let's meet him," Liz said, scooping her up from the couch and walking over to Red.

Sara's eyes went wide at the sight of the lion, instantly leaning forward in Liz's arms, reaching as far as she could toward it. "Wion wion wion!"

Liz smirked at Red, rolling her eyes. "Maybe if you hadn't brought this thing, she'd be excited to see _you_."

Red lifted his chin, grinning, glancing at Liz for the few brief seconds he was able to tear his eyes away from the child in her arms. "She'll remember that I'm the one who brought it," he replied simply, then returned his gaze to Sara, smiling softly at her as he took in her blonde hair and blue eyes and red, round cheeks, the dribble of saliva at the corner of her mouth.

He subtly shook his head in disbelief, his smile growing wider. "Hi, sweetheart," he said, reaching out to stroke the back of her head. She tangled the fingers of one tiny hand in the lion's fur, dropping her head onto its soft surface.

Liz giggled. "I think we need to get the lion out of her system first." She set Sara down onto her feet and Red placed the lion on the floor next to her. She flung her arms around its fuzzy neck, squealing happily.

Red smiled at Liz, placing a hand on her shoulder, looking at her earnestly. "Lizzy, she's precious."

"Isn't she?" she murmured, smiling down at her daughter.

Red squeezed her shoulder and rejoined her in watching Sara fawn all over the new toy.

TBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBL

Less than five minutes later, Sara's interest in the lion had waned enough for Liz to steer her attention toward Red.

He crouched down to her level, groaning a bit at the strain on his knees. She toddled the few steps toward him, reaching out to touch his cheek curiously.

Red smiled, swallowing down his emotion, as Liz's voice floated down from above, making introductions: "Sara, this is your Uncle Red."

"Unc-uh Wed," she repeated, poking his cheek.

He chuckled. "It's lovely to meet you, sweetheart." He held open his arms and she came closer until he could wrap his arms around her little body. She shyly ducked her head into his chest and he dropped a kiss onto her hair.

He pulled away and she pointed toward the hallway excitedly. "My woom puhpuwh!"

"Oh my goodness, well, I have to see that!" Red told her, pushing himself up with his hands on his knees.

Sara clumsily ran toward her bedroom, where she began to show off everything. The purple walls, her crib, her books, her teddy bear (she gave them a formal introduction), the new blanket they'd bought to drape over the armchair in the corner next to the bookcase. She began rummaging through her toys, and when she found one of Hudson's, which had accidentally made its way into the fray, she giggled, throwing the chew toy a foot away. "Thas-a dog toy!" she squealed, endlessly amused.

Liz laughed, swinging her into her arms and kissing her sloppily on the cheek. "How did Hudson's toy get in there, silly girl?"

Sara just giggled harder, squirming until Liz put her back down. "Huh-son!" she yelled, instantly forgetting all about her toys and wandering out of the room to find him.

Red followed Liz as she followed Sara out of the room. "Lizzy, I'm so thrilled that you got Hudson back. I know how much you've missed him," Red told her.

When she glanced at him over her shoulder, shooting him a smile, she could see the genuine happiness in his eyes.

"Me too. I feel like I have my life back. And a little family," she admitted quietly.

"No one deserves it more than you, sweetheart."

She smiled, overcome with emotion at all she'd gained in the past week. She found herself wanting to tell Red everything – Sara's middle-of-the-night breakdowns and her own, how devastatingly lonely she felt when she got back into bed alone every night with only Hudson for company, how she'd missed Samar every single day this week, but how she was aware of missing her so much more keenly at three a.m.

But she couldn't say any of it. Red was so happy for her, and _she_ was so happy for _herself_. She didn't want to worry him or make it seem like she wasn't happy, because she _was_ happy, she really, really was. And if she brought up the subject of Samar to another human being, it became real – those odd flutters and head-rushes and skittering heartbeats and three a.m. tears would have to be labeled, and Liz really didn't want to label them. She wasn't ready. So instead, anytime she felt a flicker of fear or anxiety over the subject, she distracted herself by talking to Sara or taking her and Hudson for a walk or, if Sara was napping, reading an extremely compelling novel.

Thankfully, Sara had just found Hudson, lapping up some water from his bowl in the kitchen, and the resulting joyous noise pulled Liz out of her head and away from the temptation to confide in Red.

TBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBL

Red offered to make dinner – a special macaroni and cheese recipe his mother used to make for him as a child – and after they'd eaten, they watched a movie, Sara propped up between them, the stuffed lion and Hudson situated at their feet. Sara eventually snuggled against Red's side.

He tucked her into the crook of his arm and turned his head, meeting Liz's gaze. She smiled at him, leaning her head back onto the cushions, taking note of the gleam in his eyes.

Sara fell asleep before the movie ended, and Liz let Red carry her to her bedroom and place her in her crib before walking him to the door. Hudson padded up, nudging at Liz's leg, and Red knelt down to scratch behind his ears. "What a good boy. I hope you're taking care of Lizzy," he said before standing up and retrieving his jacket and fedora from their hooks, slipping them both on effortlessly.

"She really likes you," Liz told him with a small smile.

Red opened his mouth to speak, working his jaw back and forth before finding the right words. "I couldn't be happier for you, Lizzy. She's delightful." He smiled brightly.

She reached one arm across her body, lightly gripping her other elbow. "Do you think you would be able to watch her for a couple hours tomorrow?" she asked hopefully.

For a moment, he seemed surprised that she'd asked, but he quickly recovered. "Of course."

Relief flashed across her features. "Thank you so much, Red. I feel comfortable leaving her with you now that she knows you. The investigation is over; Samar and I have to go to the crime scene to gather the rest of her things, and it's best that Sara not go back. I don't want her to be viscerally reminded of what she's lost," Liz explained.

Red nodded in understanding, clearing the emotion from his throat. "It would be my pleasure, Lizzy. I'm honored that you trust me with your daughter."

"I do. I trust you," she assured him with a smile.

TBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBL

When Liz collapsed back into her bed at three-thirty in the morning, after comforting Sara for over an hour (it almost seemed her panicky fits were getting worse), those familiar pesky thoughts of Samar came back with a vengeance, biting at her consciousness, scratching to be let in, and it only made her cry harder. She turned on her light and sat up in bed, pulling her knees to her chest and burying her face in the sheets.

Her chest literally ached with the weight of everything she was holding back, everything she was trying to squeeze into a tiny compartment of her brain behind lock and key.

After a few moments of indecision, she found herself reaching for her phone. When she pulled up her text messages with Samar, saw her name on the screen, the sobs lessened even as her heartbeat thumped heavy in her ears.

She swiped her arm across her eyes and took a deep, sniffly breath, then let her thumbs slip over the screen before she could overthink it or talk herself out of it.

 _Are you currently enjoying the benefits of insomnia club? (If this wakes you, I'm so sorry!)_

She tapped send and forced herself to set the phone beside her so she wouldn't stare at it. She drummed her fingers on her knees, then petted Hudson, who was curled up next to her as usual, and then she couldn't help but sneak a glance at the screen, anxiously, hopefully, nearly rolling her eyes at her own actions.

A rush of warmth spread through her chest when she saw the little swaying dots that indicated that Samar was mid-reply.

A few seconds – which seemed an eternity – later, Samar's message appeared.

 _Of course I'm awake, it's 3:30am. Who sleeps at 3:30am?_

She laughed quietly, grinning at her phone like an idiot, as another message appeared.

 _Another rough night?_

Liz started typing immediately, and hit send:

 _Tears, tears, and more tears. I'm worried she's getting worse. It lasted longer than usual tonight. Just got her back to sleep._

She watched the dots as she waited for Samar's reply.

 _I'm sure she'll be fine eventually. Grief takes time, even for a two year old._

And then the dots again…

 _You can't sleep either?_

Liz stared at the screen for a few seconds before typing, trying to gather her thoughts.

 _No, I think I'm getting worse too. There's just a lot on my mind. Constantly._

Samar's reply was instantaneous:

 _Want to get it off your chest? I'm all ears._

Liz closed her eyes, attempting to regain control over her runaway thoughts and instantly failing, unable to stop, unable to do anything but watch as everything began to derail in her mind: Yes, Samar, yes, I do want to get it off my chest, I want to let it out of the little box I've trapped it in in my mind, I want to tell someone but that someone really can't be you, because most of what's on my mind is _you_. You you you and I have no idea why and it's driving me crazy and scaring me and making me sob all over my dog every night and why do I miss you so much all the time and why does it feel like you're what's missing here and oh god oh god we're barely friends, I hardly know anything about you, but the way your hand felt next to mine the other night made my heart race, and you've always done so much for me, always, but especially now with Sara, and sometimes when you look at me a certain way it makes my insides collapse, and that spark of Samar-ness in your eyes when you smile, when you really and truly smile, brings me peace, and the way you held me when I cried, and you're so generous and thoughtful and selfless and beautiful, and when I kissed your cheek it was so hard to pull away, and sometimes I think that what all of this means is that I'm falling in love with you and-

A choked sob escaped her and she dropped the phone to her bed. "And I'm scared, I'm so scared," she whispered to the still room, and then she cried and cried and cried, and she didn't know exactly why she was crying, couldn't possibly pinpoint the exact emotions mixing together with her body's salt to form tears, but she couldn't stop. Even Hudson's worried whines and kisses as he nuzzled closer to her couldn't make her stop.

And now that she'd unlocked the box, the thoughts were flowing as freely as her tears, and each one was like a tiny revelation, a cleansing sweep across the past year, brightening and clarifying until she couldn't help but see her own actions for what they'd truly been. Her jealousy and uncertainty when Samar had first joined the task force. How she'd balked at Samar's attempts at friendliness, at friendship, from the very beginning. She remembered how Samar had kept the knowledge of her warrior gene a secret from everyone else. She remembered how she'd felt – embarrassed, deep down, though she'd never show it – when Samar was so angry with her about allowing Beck to escape, and she remembered how, even angry and questioning Liz's capabilities as an agent, Samar had been willing to bleed out alone in that airport to protect her from the virus. She cried harder when she allowed herself to really think about how scared she'd been that day; for herself, yes, but more for her selfless coworker, in pain, bleeding, in her arms. She cried harder still when she allowed herself to think about the Factory, the dull ache in her chest that had hidden behind the adrenaline and fear when she'd seen Samar get shot for the second time in months, when she'd had to watch as Samar screamed and stumbled, clutching at her leg. She remembered how she'd absolutely refused to leave Samar and Ressler behind that day, and, she was realizing now, how she'd been more acutely terrified for the woman who she supposedly didn't trust than the man who'd been her partner for a year and a half.

How had she been so blind? Why had she been burrowing into herself, burying these feelings in ridiculous, unwarranted wariness and distance? Samar had been there for her, always. She'd just been closing her eyes to it. Liz had been attracted to her from that very first day in Warsaw when she'd appeared out of nowhere, guns blazing, to help them, as if she were some sort of terrifying, yet stunning, guardian angel. She'd wanted Samar, cared about her, loved her, always. She'd just been closing her heart to it.

Suddenly Liz remembered that she was mid-conversation with Samar, who was waiting for her answer. She didn't know how much time had passed, but she'd been sobbing and thinking and aching for at least ten minutes. She picked up her phone and found two new messages.

One from five minutes after Samar had offered up her ears:

 _You okay?_

And another, immediately following:

 _You don't have to tell me anything. Really. I get it, I'm a private person too._

Nothing since. Liz's heart lurched, feeling guilty for ignoring her. She quickly typed out a message – an excuse, obviously, mixed with an attempt at humor – and sent it.

 _Sorry, the dog distracted me. Will your ears still be available at a later date or is this a limited time offer?_

The dots appeared instantly, followed by a reply.

 _Hmmm…well, limited time offers tend to be fairly effective at attracting customers. But I'll make an exception for you._

Liz smiled, cradling her phone in her hands, tears still dripping from her cheeks onto the sheets, before typing her response.

 _I'm honored. I guess I should try to get some sleep now. (And so should you!) I'll see you tomorrow._

Samar's reply arrived within seconds.

 _Can't wait._

Liz stared at her phone for a minute, rereading the exchange once, twice, three times, and then she forced herself to return her phone to its place on the nightstand, upside down so she wouldn't be tempted, and turned off the light. She turned over and snuggled down into the rumpled, slightly tear-sodden blankets and wrapped her arm tightly around Hudson, burying her face into the fur of his back with a deep sigh.

"I don't know what I'd do without you, buddy," she whispered, and then smiled as she felt his tongue flick once across her fingers, the comfort of his furry warmth gradually, oh so slowly, lulling her brain into a quiet enough state for her to fall into a light, restless sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

Friday's hours passed by in an agonizingly slow manner for Liz. She felt like every time she glanced at the clock it had barely moved, but she couldn't stop herself from looking, from counting down the minutes-that-seemed-like-hours until Samar would arrive to pick her up.

Finally, Red arrived. Finally, Sara was giggling as Red picked her up and swung her around and kissed her cheek. Finally, as she was pouring him a cup of freshly brewed tea, her phone buzzed in her pocket. Finally, Samar was waiting outside. Finally, she kissed Sara goodbye and thanked Red and grabbed her jacket and hurried out the door, trying (and failing) to calm her racing heart, to even out her shallow breaths, by reminding herself that she was being an _idiot_.

And finally, _finally_ , she was opening the car door and ducking inside and there was Samar, smiling and saying hi, and Liz was somehow calmer and more overwhelmed at the same time.

"Hey," Liz said, the word coming out higher and breathier than she'd hoped, and she knew she was beaming a bit too brightly, but at least she wasn't blushing.

Samar pulled away from the curb, glancing at Liz when she spoke. "Did you get anymore sleep last night?" she asked.

"Uh, yeah, a couple hours I think," Liz replied nonchalantly, hoping the conversation wouldn't steer again toward the specifics of why her mind had been keeping her up at night. "You?"

"A bit. Not much," Samar admitted, glancing at Liz with a smirk. "I finished the book I've been reading though. So I suppose insomnia club has _some_ benefits."

Liz huffed a laugh and leapt on the chance to change the subject, asking, "What book?"

The segue worked and Liz breathed an inward sigh of relief as they began discussing books. Their favorites, classics, ones they'd read recently, bestsellers. Liz was slightly embarrassed to admit that she hadn't read as much as she'd like to since Reddington had entered her life, turning it upside down, but Samar didn't seem to judge her for it. The sigh of relief quickly turned into a dull bite inside of her as she listened to Samar talk about a literary novel she'd finished a few months ago that she couldn't get out of her head, how even with her life as crazy as it was she made _sure_ that she made time for reading, even if it was just a couple pages at the end of each day.

The argument Liz had used with herself as of late – just last night, in fact – the one that went something like, _you barely know Samar, you're just lonely_ , was slowly being dismantled. Sure, one conversation about books didn't mean she knew her, but she was _starting_ to know her, and it only made Liz fall deeper. Samar was brilliant, so smart and dedicated; in just one week Liz had begun to see the woman behind the agent, and now she was pulling the curtain back a little farther, and maybe soon the curtain would be torn down and-

Liz forced herself to stop the thoughts rushing dangerously through her mind. It was one thing to think about these things in the privacy of her bedroom in the middle of the night, but it was another to think about them with the subject of her thoughts sitting two feet away.

Forty-seven minutes after pulling away from the Audrey, Samar killed the engine in the driveway to Sara's old house in the suburbs of Maryland, grabbing the keys from the glove compartment and shooting Liz a reassuring smile before getting out of the car.

Once they were inside, Samar glanced around the room, her eyes landing briefly on the blood still staining the rug and then looking anywhere, anywhere but at those dark red, nearly black, patches. She swallowed heavily, unable to meet Liz's gaze when she spoke. "We should probably try to make this quick so we can get back in time to eat dinner with Sara. I forgot to account for traffic."

Liz's brow furrowed slightly in concern, something about Samar's tone, her expression, the way she wouldn't look at the blood, pricking at her profiler's instincts, but she chose not to bring it up. "Okay," she replied, checking the time on her cell phone. "It's about five o'clock now, so let's just make sure we leave by five-forty-five at the latest. I don't think it'll take that long though."

Samar nodded, a bit stiffly, still not looking at Liz.

"Let's start upstairs in Sara's room," Liz suggested, not too thrilled about those bloodstains herself.

Samar's shoulders lowered and she finally met Liz's gaze, shooting her a tiny smile tinged with relief and gratitude. She nodded, and walked up the stairs without a backward glance.

TBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBL

It only took them fifteen minutes to gather everything from Sara's old bedroom: all the books from her shelf, the rest of her clothes, extra diapers (even though they'd bought plenty already), the large basket of stuffed animals and dolls in the corner, the framed photo of Sara and her mother (which Liz burst into tears upon seeing), the box of toys and the few stragglers lying about on the floor, the toddler tablet, the Fisher-Price easel, the Little Tikes basketball hoop and ball, the rocking chair that Liz had sat in with Sara on that first awful night.

They wandered the rest of the upper level, gathering Sara's bath toys from the tub and searching the closets for anything they should take with them. Liz paused on the threshold of the master bedroom, taking a shaky breath. She felt like it was wrong of her to go inside, like she was stealing someone else's daughter, invading someone else's life, one that she had absolutely no right to. Samar's steadying hand on her shoulder gave her strength, reminded her that she was now Sara's legal guardian, that she _did_ have a right to make sure Sara grew up happy and loved, but always remembering where she came from, the people who loved her first.

Liz closed her eyes and stepped inside, understanding why Samar was lingering in the doorway, arms crossed against her chest, and appreciating the thoughtfulness that the gesture indicated – Samar _wasn't_ Sara's legal guardian, after all. But this thought only made her stomach twist, made the words _missing piece_ swim across her mind, stamped in big black letters, made the empty compartment of her heart ache. She quickly made her way around the room, scanning the surfaces of shelves and dressers and nightstands and tables, searched the closet and the master bathroom, and then hurried back to the hallway, the only fruits of her efforts a brand new, unopened training potty – evidently they were about to begin potty training Sara but hadn't yet started – and two framed photos of Sara's parents, one from their wedding day and one a selfie, both of which made Liz's chest hurt and her eyes sting.

Samar glanced at the photos and shot her a sad smile of support while Liz blinked the tears back, back, back, urging her tear ducts to suck them back inside.

It took them multiple trips to carry everything downstairs and out to the car, loading it up, Liz noting each time back and forth that Samar still wouldn't look anywhere near the bloodied rug.

By five-twenty, they had begun their search of the lower level. They found a booster seat in the kitchen – which Liz had realized she needed over the past few days – along with a few random photos attached to the fridge with magnets. Liz found a sippy cup made to look like a lion in one of the cabinets and clutched it to her chest with a sigh of relief. "Thank _god_ , she's been asking about this all week," she murmured.

Samar glanced at the cup and grinned in amusement while Liz made her way through the cabinets and the dishwasher and the sink, grabbing all the kid-themed plates and cups and bowls and cutlery, washing off the few that had been left dirty.

"Do you really need all of that?" Samar asked offhandedly, closing the door to the cabinet she'd been rummaging through and turning toward Liz.

"Probably not," Liz replied, "but two-year-olds are pretty set in their ways, and I'd rather be safe than sorry if she starts asking about…" She trailed off, holding up one of the dishes with a smirk. "-her Anna and Elsa plate."

Samar smiled, leaning against the counter and crossing her arms. "You're a natural mother," she told her. Liz blushed, shrugging off the compliment, but Samar continued. "You really are, Liz. You know everything. You're a better mother than I would ever be. I don't have the nurturing instinct."

Liz cleared her throat. "That's not true. Sara loves you. She loves you because you're _great_ with her. You _do_ have the nurturing instinct," Liz insisted.

Samar's eyes dropped to the ground in an attempt to hide her vulnerability.

"And I don't know everything, trust me," Liz continued. "Google knows everything. I only know two-year-olds are stubborn because Sara's stubborn as _hell_ and I did some research when she wouldn't shut up about the stupid sippy cup." She smiled as she stood at her end of the kitchen, wishing more than anything that she could walk over and run her fingers through Samar's hair, down her arm.

Samar slowly raised her eyes back up to meet Liz's gaze, a small, grateful smile appearing on her face. "Thank you. And I still think you're a natural mother, even if you have to ask for Google's help on occasion."

Liz huffed a laugh, and then tilted her head toward the living room. "Let's finish this up?"

Samar nodded, taking the dishes out of Liz's arms and heading toward the front door. "I'll take these to the car. Be right back."

Liz smiled in thanks and began searching the living room. As she scanned the shelves and tables, placing framed photos in a neat stack on the coffee table, she was aware of Samar – coming back inside, searching the closet in the entryway, pulling out a stroller and jacket, taking them out to the car, finally coming back inside again. By the time Samar rejoined her in the living room, Liz had gathered all the framed photos (including a family portrait featuring a tiny baby Sara), a DVD of wedding footage, a few photo albums, and Sara's baby book, and tears were silently streaming down her face as she diligently continued to comb the room.

Samar walked up to the table, gazing down at the pile of mementos and memories. "Almost done?" she asked, but then she glanced up and noticed Liz's tears, the attempted stoic expression on her face, and she crossed the room instantly, resting her hand on Liz's arm. Liz bravely met her gaze, swallowing heavily, allowing Samar to see her pain. "I know," Samar whispered, squeezing her shoulder. "I know."

Liz sniffed, clearing her throat to try to speak through her tears. "It's just not fair," she croaked. "And what was I thinking? I work for the fucking _FBI_ , I put myself in danger all the time. What if she loses me too?"

Samar's eyes betrayed her sadness, but she smiled softly at Liz. "Then she would have me."

Liz smiled, even chuckled a bit, but shook her head. "You work for the fucking FBI too," she reminded her, resignation tinged with playfulness.

"Liz, everything will be fine," Samar assured her. "We will all be fine," she added, and at that, Liz couldn't stop herself from stepping forward and slipping her arms around Samar, resting her chin on her shoulder.

It took Samar a couple seconds to recover from her surprise yet again, but she wrapped her own arms around Liz, holding her tightly, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath.

"Thank you," Liz whispered, her breath fanning the wisps of hair tucked behind Samar's ear. "And that _definitely_ should in _no way_ indicate that I'm surprised you care about me. I'm just genuinely thanking you, I swear."

She could feel the breeze from Samar's huff of laughter, hear the smile in her voice when she replied, "Okay. You're welcome."

"Can I ask you something?" Liz asked after a moment, pulling away from the embrace so she could see Samar's face.

Samar nodded, her brow creased slightly in question. "Of course."

"Why have you avoided looking at those bloodstains since we first walked in here?" Liz asked softly.

Samar swallowed, and Liz could see in her expression that she was closing herself off, shutting down. "Liz…" she started warily, her tone a warning, shadowed by fear.

"I'm all ears, too. Always," Liz interrupted.

Samar closed her eyes, clenching her fists until her knuckles were white, her mouth forming a thin line.

"It's not just because of Sara, is it?" Liz prodded gently.

Silence, silence, silence, and then Samar finally whispered, "No," her eyes still squeezed shut.

Liz reached instinctively for Samar's tightly clenched fingers but then forced herself not to, her hand falling back to her side. She swallowed, unsure now, her tongue refusing to cooperate with her brain. More silence. She was about to open her mouth and apologize, say that she didn't have to tell her anything, didn't owe her anything, when Samar's quiet voice stopped her in her tracks.

"My parents, um-" She swallowed, composing herself. "My mother and father were murdered when I was thirteen years old. I was in the yard with my brother when it happened, but I heard the gunshots and the screaming, so I went inside. I saw their bodies, the blood-" She stopped, her eyes screwing more tightly shut, her face paler than usual, the thin line of her mouth wavering almost imperceptibly.

Liz felt like she was frozen, her mouth opening involuntarily in shock, unable to speak, unable to move, unable to do anything except think about the pain that this house, this case, Sara, everything, must be causing her.

"I wouldn't let my brother in, I couldn't let him see that," Samar continued. "Because I knew even then, immediately, that I would never forget. I'll _never_ forget the blood-" Her voice broke then, and she tried to breathe, to calm the raging emotion within, but Liz could see her body trembling with the effort of holding it back.

Liz did reach for her hand then. It didn't matter how it came across or how it made her feel; all that mattered was touching Samar, grounding her, reminding her that she wasn't alone.

As soon as Liz's hand brushed against her palm, Samar opened her fist and twined their fingers together, squeezing so hard she was mildly afraid that she might hurt her.

"I'm sorry," Liz whispered, using her free hand to wipe away a stray tear from her own cheek. "I shouldn't have asked. I'm so sorry."

Samar finally opened her eyes, a few tears spilling out, and she shook her head, sniffing once. "Don't apologize."

Liz squeezed her hand more tightly. "Why did you come back here? I could've done this myself," Liz asked, her chest aching.

"Because you shouldn't have had to do this by yourself. You shouldn't have to do any of this by yourself," Samar insisted, dragging her thumb under her eyes to swipe away the moisture.

"And I appreciate that, Samar, I do. But if I had known? I wouldn't have let you come back here," Liz told her firmly.

Other than her occasional sniffs, Samar was quiet, looking at the floor, still holding on to Liz's fingers as if they were her tether to the earth, as if otherwise, gravity would no longer apply to her and she would float away into nothingness. "Let's get out of here, okay?" Liz suggested gently.

Samar nodded, still looking down, but disentangled her fingers from Liz's and dutifully began to scoop some of the items Liz had compiled into her arms. Liz gathered the rest and followed Samar, giving the room another quick onceover, before closing the front door behind them, knowing neither of them would ever have to see this place again.

They piled the last items into the remaining empty space in the car's backseat, and then Samar walked back toward the front door to lock it, the keys jangling in her shaking fingers.

Liz watched from a distance, and when Samar finally walked back toward her, heading to the driver's door, she held out her hand to stop her. "Give me the car keys." Samar tried to protest, but Liz was having none of it. "I'm driving, Samar. You're shaking," Liz insisted, then again, more gently, "Give me the keys."

Samar studied her firm expression for a few seconds and then handed her the car keys, walking around to the other side to climb into the passenger seat. Liz got in and started the engine, trying not to think about the look on Samar's face or what her fingers felt like tucked against her own.


	6. Chapter 6

When they walked into the apartment and Sara ran to Samar, stretching her little arms out in front of her, when Samar picked her up and kissed her and held her close, Liz could tell that she was holding her just a bit more tightly than usual, her eyes shut, breathing in Sara's innocence and love, as if she were holding herself all those years ago, the way someone should have held her after the image of her parents' dead bodies had been permanently etched into her memory.

Liz pulled her eyes away, feeling like she was intruding, trying not to think about Samar's childhood tragedy and instead turning her attention to Red who was walking toward them after lugging himself up from the couch.

"Hey," she said, smiling at him. "How'd it go?"

"Wonderfully; Sara is an absolute delight," Red replied.

"Thank you for watching her. I really appreciate it."

"You're quite welcome, Lizzy. Anytime. I'm more than happy to help. How did things go at the house?" he asked.

"Um…" Liz trailed off, glancing back at Samar briefly. "It was fine. Difficult, but that was to be expected." Red nodded in understanding. "Do you think you could help me bring all the stuff up from the car?" she asked, wanting to give Samar a reprieve after the emotion of the past couple hours.

"Certainly," he replied without hesitation.

Liz led him toward the door, kissing the side of Sara's head and placing a comforting hand on Samar's back along the way. "We'll be right back," she said, shooting Samar a smile and ignoring the stabbing rush in her chest when Samar smiled back, looking entirely vulnerable and grateful and lovely.

Red greeted Samar as he passed, and once they were in the hallway, he cleared his throat, and asked, concern evident in his tone, "How is Agent Navabi?"

Liz looked at him suspiciously. "She's…all right, for the most part. Why do you ask?"

He shook his head. "No reason in particular," he lied. "She just seems a tad more subdued than usual."

Liz stared at her feet as they stepped into the elevator, the doors sliding closed behind them. "The case and the situation with Sara are bringing up bad memories, but it's not my place to talk about them," she admitted, pressing the button for the ground floor.

She met Red's gaze and he frowned. "I know about her family, Lizzy. I wasn't sure if you knew."

"How-" Liz began and then held up her hand, shaking her head. "Never mind, I'm not going to ask. You know everything."

Red released a small huff of amusement, nodding. "I do."

"She told me today," Liz continued softly, staring straight ahead at the shiny doors. "At the house. She, um…" She paused to gather the words. "Samar was there the night we found the bodies, and the blood was still there today. She couldn't look at it. She wouldn't."

Red exhaled wearily. "I can certainly understand why seeing Sara's mother and father would bring back horribly tragic memories," he murmured.

"If I'd known, I wouldn't have let her go back there. I mean, _god_ ," Liz breathed.

He nodded in understanding, his lips forming a terse line. "And dredging all of this up so soon after dredging up memories of her brother…" he trailed off.

Liz's wandering gaze instantly shot back to Red's face, her eyes narrowed, her brow creased. "What are you talking about?" she asked, her voice quiet, quivering.

Red instantly realized his mistake upon seeing the fear and confusion on her face. "Nothing, Lizzy, I shouldn't have said anything. I assumed that since you knew about her parents… I forgot that you didn't know."

"No, Red, you can't take that back. Did something happen to her brother?" she asked, terrified, practically holding her breath.

Red studied her face for a moment, then closed his eyes and sighed in resignation before looking at her again. "Her brother was killed in a terrorist attack in Iran five years ago."

A strange noise escaped her before she could clamp her mouth shut. She closed her eyes to block the tears, but a few managed to finagle their way out no matter how hard she squeezed. "Oh my god. Samar," she whispered, swiping clumsily at her wet cheeks.

Everything hurt. Everything hurt and nothing was okay and all she wanted to do was find the people who had done this to Samar and hurt them the way they'd hurt her. Or, better yet, to build a time machine and go back and stop this from happening, to stop _all_ of it from happening.

She glanced at Red, and, upon seeing the look of stunned alarm on his face, tried to pull herself together.

He smiled softly, reassuringly, placing a brief, gentle hand on her back. "Agent Navabi is incredibly strong, Lizzy. You needn't worry about her."

Liz sniffed, wiping at her cheeks again and nodding stoically. "I know. I know that. But god, it's just- I just want her to be okay," she breathed shakily.

"It's clear that you care for her a great deal. I think spending time with you and Sara will help heal this reopened wound," he told her as the elevator dinged on the ground floor, the doors sliding open in front of them. He lifted his hand to her back again and led her, still slightly dazed, out of the elevator.

TBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBL

Thankfully, the physical effort of lugging the boxes and bags and baskets and furniture up to her apartment helped to clear her mind. By the time they had bade Reddington goodnight – which took longer than it should have because Sara kept hugging his leg in an attempt to make him stay – Liz realized how hungry she was.

"Dinner?" she asked, instantly heading to the kitchen to distract herself from the near-blinding need to wrap Samar in her arms after what she'd learned in the elevator. She knew she couldn't; she couldn't bring up the subject of her brother on top of everything else. But it was almost as if there were a magnet demanding that, in this moment, her arms belonged around Samar.

She pulled some cans of soup out of the cupboard. "How's this?" she asked, holding one up for Samar to see.

"Fine with me," she replied with a smile and a shrug.

Liz poured the cans into a large pot on the stove and turned up the heat. When she turned around, Samar was washing Sara's hands, holding her up to the sink.

She distractedly stirred the soup and watched as Samar carefully dried Sara's hands, helped her slip into her bib, and situated her in the booster seat they'd just retrieved from the house.

God, she was _wonderful_.

She heard Samar's voice drifting in from the table – "I'll be right back, I'm going to help your Mama Liz finish dinner, okay?" – and then she was there, right beside her.

"Is everything okay?" Samar asked quietly.

Liz's heart leapt into her throat. "Yeah, why?" she asked nervously.

"Liz, your eyes are red."

 _Shit_. Shit shit shit.

Liz turned the heat down and stopped stirring to look at Samar. She made one more attempt at deflection: "It's just been an emotional day, that's all."

Samar's expression didn't change. It was obvious that she wasn't buying it.

Liz sighed and looked down at her fingers gripping the wooden spoon before forcing herself to meet Samar's gaze once more. "Reddington accidentally told me something that he thought I already knew."

"And that something was…" Samar prodded.

Liz studied her face for a moment, then relented. "He told me about your brother," she managed to whisper, tightening her grip on the spoon. She watched as Samar's shoulders fell ever so slightly, as the light in her eyes dimmed almost imperceptibly. "And I just- I couldn't help it," she continued, gesturing toward her evidently red eyes. "You know, after-" She stopped, trying to gather her thoughts. "God, Samar, I'm just so sorry. None of this is fair. I can't imagine what you-" Liz's voice cracked, and she reached for Samar's arm, unable to resist the magnet's pull. She didn't know what else to say, so instead she gave in, wrapping herself around Samar, clutching at her shirt. "I'm sorry," she whispered brokenly, "I didn't want to bring it up. I'm sorry you're hurting."

Samar's arms closed around her instantly this time, and Liz could feel how tightly, how desperately, she was holding on; she could feel Samar's warm breath as she exhaled shakily, could hear the little noise of emotional restraint in the back of her throat. They stood, time stretching around them, the only sound Sara's babbling from the table, and Liz found herself wishing she could freeze this moment, stay in it forever.

She felt Samar's cheek moving against her ear when she finally whispered, "Thank you for caring about me."

And those six words broke Liz's heart into such tiny pieces she didn't know if she'd ever be able to find them all in the crevices of her kitchen, much less put them back together. She had to physically bite her tongue to stop herself from whispering quiet _I love you_ s into the warm, deliciously savory air. Instead, she swallowed once and said, simply, "You're welcome."

TBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBL

After dinner, after Sara made a complete mess and they'd cleaned it up, after Sara's bath, after watching her happily greet all of the dolls and stuffed animals she'd so dearly missed over the past week, after her bedtime story in her rocking chair, Samar sitting against the wall beside them, and after Sara had been put into her crib, falling asleep instantly, exhausted from her exciting day filled with visitors, Liz flipped off the light and led Samar into the hallway.

"Wine? Tea?" she asked, glancing at Samar over her shoulder as they walked.

"Tea would be great, thanks."

Liz smiled, then turned the corner into the kitchen. "Come pick, I have a bunch of different kinds."

Once they'd chosen, once the water had boiled, once the steaming mugs were cradled in their hands, they wandered toward the couch. Samar sat down on one end, leaning her back against the arm and bringing her knees toward her chest, socked feet flat on the cushion in front of her. Liz paused for less than a second, and then boldly – or stupidly, she thought – chose to sit just a few inches from Samar's feet, propping her own feet on the coffee table, her legs stretched out before her.

They were quiet for several minutes, blowing on their tea and taking occasional sips, and then Liz leaned her head against the cushion behind her with a sigh, turning it to the side to face Samar. She studied her expression carefully. She seemed a bit more guarded than she had earlier; even a bit embarrassed, maybe, her eyes dipping down to her tea every now and then under Liz's scrutiny.

Just then, Hudson walked up to them, nudging his nose against Liz's knee, pulling her attention away from Samar for a moment. "Oh gosh, Hud, I forgot to feed you!" she exclaimed, hopping up and setting her tea on the table. "Be right back," she called over her shoulder as she followed the bounding dog into the kitchen.

Samar could hear the bits of kibble as they clanged into the metal bowl, could hear Hudson noisily lapping at his water bowl. She closed her eyes, breathing in and out, in and out. She felt safe here, at home. And then she opened her eyes and reminded herself that this apartment, Liz and Sara, this feeling of family, wasn't her home and never would be.

She set her half-empty mug on the coffee table and allowed her sadness to sink her down into the couch. She curled up on her side, tucking her arm underneath her head against one of the big, fluffy pillows Reddington had bought.

When Liz came back to the couch, Samar was half asleep. She smiled at the sight, biting her lip to compose herself before picking up a blanket from the back of the couch and murmuring, "Samar."

Samar shook herself awake, blinking sleepily up at Liz. "Yeah?"

She couldn't help but smile again, feeling that familiar rush in her chest, and, now that she'd admitted her feelings to herself, wishing she could crouch down and kiss her. She forced that sudden, currently unwelcome thought to the back of her mind. "I was going to ask if you'd stay here tonight, but I don't think it's really a question anymore," Liz said with a hint of a smirk.

Samar grinned, dragging one hand over her face. "That would be ideal." Her grin gradually fell away. "If you really don't mind, of course."

"I want you to stay," Liz insisted firmly.

"Good," Samar murmured, breathing a sigh of relief and closing her eyes again. "Because I'm so tired I can't fathom driving home."

"You're okay on the couch?" she asked, half of her hoping Samar would say yes – for Liz's own sanity – and the other half desperately hoping she'd say no, that she'd much rather sleep in the bed with her.

"Yeah, it's comfortable. Reddington really does have good taste," Samar mumbled sleepily.

Liz tossed the blanket onto her feet, and headed toward the linen closet. "Let me get you another blanket and a real pillow."

Samar made an incoherent noise, which Liz thought resembled agreement. When she brought them back to the couch, Samar opened her eyes and smiled. "Thank you," she said, taking the pillow and tucking it under her head and draping the blanket over the other, burrowing down into them cozily.

Liz ignored her aching heart for the million and one-th time and smiled back. "No problem. I'll get out an extra toothbrush and put it in the hallway bathroom in case you decide you have the energy to get up."

Samar closed her eyes again and huffed a faint laugh.

"Goodnight, Samar," she murmured, wanting to reach down and stroke her hair, trace her jawline, but instead, forcing herself to move one foot and then the other away from the couch. She heard Samar's sleepily mumbled "goodnight," and then she turned off the light and retreated to her bedroom.


	7. Chapter 7

Liz woke to a piercing, agonizing screech coming from the baby monitor beside her – so high-pitched it was also traveling through the walls, through the hallway, through the doors. Far worse than usual. She glanced at her bedside clock as she scrambled out of bed, pushing the blankets down into a rumpled pile. 2:11 a.m.

She rubbed her eyes blearily and stumbled toward the door, nearly tripping over Hudson who was already awake, alarmed by the noise.

She made her way down the hallway and turned into Sara's room, stopping in her tracks as she watched Samar, already there, lifting Sara into her arms and murmuring hushed, soothing words into her ear as she held her close: "Shh, shhh, darling girl, you're okay, I've got you."

Liz felt her eyes stinging, the lump forming in the back of her throat, and she knew this wasn't Samar's responsibility but she couldn't bring herself to step forward and break the spell.

"Missh mamaaaaa," Sara screamed. "Daddyyy!" She threw her head back, trying to escape Samar's embrace as if her arms were a trap keeping her from her real family.

Samar held on, placing one hand around the back of her head, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. She stepped toward the bookcase and gently picked up the framed photo Liz had placed there. "Look, baby girl, they're right here, they're right here so you always, _always_ remember them," Samar murmured, making sure Sara could see her parents' smiling faces.

But Sara only wailed harder and louder, and knocked the frame from Samar's hand so forcefully that her little fist caused the glass to crack, a tiny thin line of blood appearing on her palm. She threw herself in seemingly every direction at once, crying and screaming, each of her sobs a knife to Liz's heart. The photo fell to the floor, forgotten, as Samar grabbed Sara's hand gently, moving backwards to sit in the rocking chair, Sara in her arms. "Shhh, shh, love, I know, I know."

Liz had finally pulled herself out of her reverie, and knelt beside the rocking chair, reaching out to inspect Sara's hand. Samar used her thumb to spread open the little girl's chubby fingers, Sara's tiny, pale hand cupped within her palm. Liz gently touched Sara's skin, pulling it gently in different directions so she could see how bad the cut was, her own palm skimming against Samar's as she completed her inspection. Sara's panicky sobs transitioned into something more simple and exhausted and scared, her little body unable to handle so much emotion at once.

"You're okay, Sara," Liz whispered, brushing the un-cut portion of her palm softly. "I'm gonna get you all fixed up, okay?"

Sara managed to nod but let out a rough wail, her throat raw from her cries. Liz stood up and Samar followed her wordlessly into the bathroom, lovingly placing a kiss on Sara's temple, whispering to her over and over that everything would be okay.

Liz rummaged through the cabinet beneath the sink, pulling out rubbing alcohol, cotton balls, Neosporin, and princess-themed Band-Aids. Samar sat down on the edge of the bathtub, Sara in her lap, and placed another kiss on her red, puffy cheek, wiping the tears away with her thumb.

Sara wailed as Liz pulled her hand into her own, tugging softly at her skin, swiping the alcohol-laden cotton ball across the cut to make sure it was completely clean. "I know, sweetie, I know it hurts, but we're almost done," Liz murmured as she watched herself work. She unwrapped a Band-Aid and dabbed Neosporin onto its pad, then quickly, carefully affixed it to Sara's palm. "See? All done! And now you get to show off your princess Band-Aids." Liz smiled at her, lifting her little hand up to place a kiss amongst the princesses.

Sara's cries were gradually beginning to lessen, but she was still whimpering quietly, tears continuing to stream down her cheeks. Liz let her eyes sneak up a few inches and she met Samar's gaze and all she could think was _how was I so blind to this, how was I ever so blind?_

Liz suddenly realized how uncomfortable her legs felt in this crouched, cramped position on the bathroom floor and pushed herself up to her feet. Samar stood, and began to hand Sara to Liz, while she said, "Where do you keep your vacuum? I'll clean up the glass."

Sara was already settling into her arms, so she couldn't really do anything about it, but her mouth fell open in protest. "Samar, no, I can do it. Really. You've done more than enough," she insisted, overwhelmed.

Samar smiled and simply shook her head, walking around Liz out of the bathroom, a gentle hand brushing across her arm as she passed.

Liz sighed resignedly, nearly rolling her eyes, and called out, "Front closet. Vacuum's in the front closet."

TBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBL

Samar worked quickly, and by the time Liz had finished cleaning the tears and snot from Sara's face, changed her diaper, and helped her into a fresh, non-tear-soaked set of pajamas, the vacuum's whine was already winding down and Samar was placing it back inside the closet and checking the carpet carefully for stray pieces she may have missed.

Once the carpet had been deemed safe, once Samar had disposed of the bigger chunks of glass in the kitchen trash and returned to give Sara a goodnight kiss, Liz moved to lower her daughter into the crib.

But Sara whined and wrapped her little arms around Liz's neck and refused to let go, clamping her legs tightly around Liz's waist, clinging to her like a desperate monkey.

Liz stopped and looked at her, brushing her hair out of her face softly. "Are you a little Sara monkey?" she asked playfully, grinning.

Sara's eyes were wide and she unwrapped one arm from Liz's neck so she could stick two of her fingers into her mouth. Liz kissed her forehead. "Come on, I'll let you snuggle me for a bit," she murmured, smiling at Samar as she walked past her into the hallway. She looked over her shoulder, stopping when she saw Samar turn away toward the living room. "Samar?"

Samar slowly looked back at them.

"You can come with us. If you want to, I mean," Liz nervously offered, then smirked softly as she added, "Our first official meeting of the Insomnia Club?"

Samar smiled and, even though she looked exhausted and a little bit sad, it was that specific smile that made her eyes twinkle in that specific way that was just so _Samar_ , the smile that never failed to make Liz melt into a puddle. Liz breathed a sigh of relief as Samar nodded and began to walk toward her. She moved her feet again, down the hall to her bedroom, euphoric at the knowledge that Samar was following her.

She climbed into her bed, settling in propped up against her pillows, Sara's head resting on her chest. She reached for the remote on her nightstand and switched on the television, flicking over to the DVD she knew was already waiting for just such an instance – Frozen – and pressed play where they'd left off a few nights before.

Samar sat gently on the other side of the bed. "Ah, Frozen. I have yet to see this."

"Oh my goodness, Sara, did you hear that?" Liz whispered conspiratorially. "Auntie Samar hasn't seen Frozen!" She glanced over at Samar, her nose crinkling in amusement.

Sara lifted her head, just barely, and asked, seemingly in utter disbelief at this travesty, "No _Fwozen_?"

Samar shook her head, grinning, and replied, "Nope. Not yet, anyway."

Liz looked back at Sara, and kissed her temple. "I think that means we have to start from the beginning. What do you think, kiddo?"

Sara nodded, a tiny smile finally appearing on her face. "Auntie Samaw gotta see Fwozen," she said, her tone lacking the energy that it normally would've had – Liz could tell that she was already getting sleepy again.

"I agree," Liz told her with a grin, clicking over to the menu and restarting the movie.

Sara snuggled into Liz's chest, clutching her shirt in her little fist, angling her head a bit so she could see the screen.

Samar leaned back into the pillows on her side of the bed, getting comfortable, just as Hudson jumped up onto the foot of the bed and curled up between their feet. Samar reached out to pet him with one foot, wiggling her socked toes against his fur for a moment. She sunk down further into the pillows, then turned onto her side and reached out to stroke Sara's hair gently before tucking her arm back into her chest and propping her head up to watch the screen.

Within the first half hour of the movie – Liz hardly paying attention as she thought about Sara and her parents, and Samar and her brother and her mom and dad, her thoughts then drifting to Sam and how much she missed him and how much she wished he could've met Sara, and then drifting back to Samar and Samar and Samar – Sara had fallen asleep on her chest, her tiny lips parted and a thick thread of drool pooling at the corner of her mouth.

As the drool soaked into Liz's shirt, she was brought out of her swirl of thoughts. She smiled down at her daughter, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "Precious girl," she whispered. She turned her head to smile at Samar, but she'd fallen asleep too, curled up on her side, head tucked into the crook of her arm against the fluffy pillows.

Liz nearly cried at the sight, how innocent and peaceful she looked, how beautiful she was, her long, dark eyelashes pronounced against her skin, her full lips gently pressed together, her thick ponytail of hair cushioned behind her, stray strands of curls falling out in every direction, one beginning to creep its way across her cheek.

God, she wanted so badly to curl up beside her and hold her and bury her face in those curls and kiss away all her pain and show her how much she appreciated her and tell her how perfect she was, how strong, how kind and generous and thoughtful, how much she adored her, how she couldn't have done any of this without her, how much she _loved_ her, _I love you I love you I love you_ …

But instead she tore her eyes away from her sleeping beauty and, as slowly and carefully and quietly as she could, got out of bed and carried Sara back to her crib. She kissed her on the forehead and, once she was sure she wasn't going to wake, crept back into her own bedroom, her heart leaping as she gazed at Samar's still-sleeping form on her bed, on _her_ bed.

She stopped the movie and turned off the television, slipping back into bed, remaining on top of the blankets so as not to wake Samar. But her efforts were thwarted by Hudson who chose that exact moment to lift his head and raise his back paw, urgently scratching at an itch on his neck, his collar spinning around and around with the movement, his tags jangling as loudly as alarm bells in the silence of the room.

Liz felt Samar stirring, but directed her attention at the dog, realizing that her anger at him for ruining the perfect moment was probably a bit unjustified. "Shh, Hudson, stop that," she whispered, sticking her hand out to slow his paw until he took the hint.

She looked back at Samar, who was definitely awake now, and met her gaze, smiling apologetically. "Sorry," Liz whispered, leaning back to lie on her side facing Samar, mirroring her position. "He probably did that on purpose," she grumbled, "because he's mad at you for taking his spot."

Samar chuckled, a small grin turning her lips upward. "I'm sure he did. What an asshole," she said playfully, her voice a bit rough from sleep, a little deeper than usual.

Liz snorted at that while Hudson re-settled himself across the foot of the bed, sprawling out as if he were trying to prove to Samar that this was _his_ territory. "So, Frozen didn't hold your interest, huh?" Liz asked with a teasing smirk.

Samar simply smiled at her in response. "I must have been _exceedingly_ comfortable. I'm rarely asleep at this time of night," she admitted with a shrug, trying to mask the truth of the statement with humor.

Liz bit her lip, watching her for a moment. "You didn't have to do that, you know," she said, her voice a near-whisper.

"What?"

"Any of it," Liz answered instantly. "You were in Sara's room before I was; you were the one trying to comfort her. You held her and kissed her and dried her tears. You cleaned up the glass so I didn't have to worry about it." She paused, and then repeated, even more quietly, "You didn't have to."

Samar smiled softly, her eyes drifting shut. "Of course I didn't have to, but those are the kinds of things you do for someone you love," she mumbled sleepily, easily, with not a hint of hesitation, as if it were the simplest and most obvious statement she'd ever spoken aloud.

Liz's heartbeat thumped loudly in her chest. Was she talking about only Sara, or was she talking about her too? Oh _god_ , she would be overthinking that sentence for the next month, analyzing it until the memory was completely shredded in her mind (wait, had she said it _this_ way or _that_ way?), turning it over and over and over and over-

"Are you okay?" Samar asked then, opening her eyes and reaching for Liz's hand, sliding her own smoothly across the sheets until her palm was resting lightly on top of Liz's knuckles. "I know it must be taxing with this happening every night."

The concern in Samar's eyes and the gentle way she was touching her made Liz forget how to breathe for a moment, but she managed to answer coherently, nodding slightly. "Well, this is the first night I haven't been sobbing when I've come back to bed, so right now? Right now I'm okay," she admitted, a small, grateful smile gracing her features.

Samar swallowed heavily at her words, studying her expression carefully, but she didn't break their gaze and Liz was glad. It seemed Samar's exhaustion had brought back the vulnerability that had been missing earlier on the couch, and Liz wanted to soak it all up until it became a part of her, until she understood every little fragmented piece of the woman whose hand was so sweetly, warmly covering her own.

Liz cleared her throat, still staring into Samar's eyes, and bravely, truthfully, whispered, "I'm glad you're here."

"Me too," Samar whispered back, tightening the grip of her fingers around Liz's hand.

After a moment, Liz finally looked down at the sheets nervously. "Are _you_ okay?" she asked quietly, uncertain if she should even be asking at all.

Samar let her head descend deeper into the softness of the pillow and thought for a few seconds. "I will be," she finally replied.

Liz had assumed the answer would be along those lines. She looked back at Samar's beautiful face, wanting to trace every line formed by stress or weariness or devastation, the touch of her finger erasing all those bad moments from her consciousness. But instead, she simply whispered, "I'm sorry," for what felt like the hundredth time that day.

Samar breathed out a faint chuckle. "I know. But I'll be all right," she assured her. "Yes, those wounds will always be there, ready to reopen at a moment's notice like they did today. Each loss is a piece of me that's gone, a place inside of me that's empty and that hurts if I stare at it for too long. But I haven't lost all my pieces, Liz."

Liz blinked back tears and smiled, so genuinely, so brightly, that she was afraid Samar would see the words _I love you_ broadcast across the room, projected onto the wall, written on her forehead. "No you haven't," she murmured, lowering her head to her pillow, unable to tear her eyes away from Samar, until finally, they were so heavy with exhaustion that she couldn't help but let them fall closed.

And then, after several minutes, she heard Samar's voice slipping through her half-asleep state of awareness – "goodnight, Liz, I'll see you in the morning" – and felt her starting to pull her hand away. Without opening her eyes, Liz instinctively closed her fingers around Samar's wrist before she could escape and mumbled, "No, stay, you can sleep here."

"Are you sure?" Samar asked, cautious.

"Yes, don't be dumb," Liz muttered, tugging on Samar's hand until she could feel her weight shifting back into place.

Samar snorted. "You're bossy when you're half asleep," she joked as she slid between the sheets, scooting them out from under Liz's body and pulling them up over both of them, then sinking down, burrowing into the soft mountains of pillows and blankets.

Liz smiled lazily, a bit lopsided, and blindly reached down to adjust the blankets, tucking them between her body and her arm. She turned her face further into the pillow, her hair falling down to form a little curtain, and shifted her hips and her legs into a more comfortable position.

If she'd opened her eyes, she would've seen the look on Samar's face – the soft smile, the love in her eyes, the way she bit her lip as she reached out with one hand, only to falter and let it fall to rest on the sheets between them.

But she didn't. Her eyes remained closed, and soon, so soon, she was asleep, happier than she'd been all week.


	8. Chapter 8

Liz took a half-day at work on Monday, to help Sara feel comfortable at her new daycare. She was worried about leaving her, bringing about another huge change in her life so soon after the last, but Sara, despite her initial shyness, seemed to have taken a liking to nearly everyone there by the time Liz left for work.

She was nervous on the drive to the Post Office, her chest tight with excited anticipation; she and Samar had texted a bit over the weekend – both of them trying to subtly make sure the other was okay without directly asking – but Liz hadn't seen her since she'd left the apartment on Saturday morning and, even after forty-eight hours, she _missed_ her. She missed the way Samar made her feel: safe and warm, at peace and cared for. She couldn't stop thinking about how it had felt to wake up to Samar's body heat only two feet away in her bed. And she couldn't stop thinking about the shades of restraint and sadness, tinged with disappointment and maybe something else, on Samar's face as they stood by the door, not touching, only smiling, their goodbye nearly awkward with its conspicuous lack of affection.

Liz had spent all weekend driving herself crazy, just as she'd known she would, Samar's words echoing around and around in her mind – _of course I didn't have to, but those are the kinds of things you do for someone you love_ – as if she were stuck in the middle of an out-of-control rink of bumper cars, trying to avoid getting hit. Samar had been exhausted, after all. Close to falling asleep. Vulnerable. All things which could have led to her letting her guard down, using that one specific word when she wouldn't have otherwise. Or maybe Samar had no reason to keep her guard up around Liz; maybe she really _had_ only been talking about Sara, who, of course, she would have no qualms about loving.

She'd come no closer to answers – no sudden epiphanies, no newfound ability to read Samar's mind – and she had kind of, sort of, perfected her ability to stop the bumper cars if she distracted herself, with Sara or Hudson or anything else as long as it kept her mind otherwise occupied, the way she'd done before when she was distracting herself from confronting her own feelings.

She was uncertain whether work would help her or hinder her. On the one hand, work would definitely keep her busy, probably keep her distracted if she were deep in the middle of a case or a detailed task. But on the other hand, Samar would be there, working by her side. If she were being honest with herself, she was a little worried that thoughts of Samar and Sara, combined with night after night of interrupted sleep, would distract her from her work, cause her to make some sort of dangerous mistake.

But when the rackety industrial doors of the elevator opened onto the Post Office and she saw Samar leaning against her desk, mid-conversation with Aram, all of her worries vanished as if they'd been entirely a figment of her imagination, completely and utterly unnecessary. She stood there for a moment, thinking to herself, _Why was I worried? What was I even worried about in the first place?_ and then Aram spotted her – greeting her with an animated, "Agent Keen! You're back!" – and Samar turned around and beamed so brightly at the sight of her that her stomach _actually flipped_ , as if she were in some absurd romance novel.

"Hey," Liz said, unable to keep the smile from her face as she approached, glancing back and forth between her two friends. She wouldn't have called Samar a friend just a couple weeks ago, and now….

"Hey," Samar greeted her. "How's Sara?"

"She's fine, I think," Liz replied. "She seemed okay when I left, at least, but I'm still worried."

Samar reached out and squeezed her shoulder gently, briefly, as if it were nothing unusual, as if these casual touches weren't a recent development between them. "I know, but I'm sure she'll be fine. The panics have only been at night, correct?"

Liz nodded. "Yeah, but I told them the whole situation anyway, just in case. Oh, um…" She trailed off, glancing awkwardly at the ground before meeting Samar's gaze again. "I put your number down as Sara's backup contact. I hope that's okay, I didn't know who else-"

"Liz, don't be ridiculous. Of _course_ it's okay," Samar assured her with a smile.

"Thank you," Liz replied, relieved, before reaching into her purse and rummaging around for a moment. She pulled out a ring containing two keys and held it out to Samar, trying her best not to blush. "And since you're an emergency contact, I figured you should have keys to the apartment, you know. For emergencies." She cursed herself, well aware that she was, in fact, blushing slightly, but she managed to smile.

"Sounds logical," Samar replied, seemingly unfazed by this turn of events, holding out her hand.

Liz dropped the keys into her outstretched palm and then, desperately needing to focus her attention on someone else, she grinned and turned her gaze to Aram. She caught the surprised, befuddled expression on his face as his eyes wandered between her and Samar, but she chose to ignore it. "Can I show you pictures? Will you indulge my newfound motherhood?" she asked happily, pulling her phone from her pocket.

Aram's gaze focused on Liz, the puzzled look slipping from his face. "Yeah, yeah, show me!" he said excitedly, moving toward her to look down at the phone in her hand as she began to swipe through photos of Sara.

Samar felt oddly proud as she stood there watching Liz show off her daughter, watching Aram smile warmly, exclaiming over each photo, pointing and aww-ing, watching the way Liz's face lit up brighter and brighter each time. She'd felt a flush of pride, as well, at the information that Liz had made her an emergency contact, that she trusted her with her daughter, the keys to her apartment, her life. As she felt the sense of comfort begin to overwhelm her once again, she closed her eyes, trying to remind herself that no matter how included she felt, she was technically on the outside looking in and always would be.

TBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBL

Liz's first day back at work started with a briefing on the latest case and ended with an ambush and a chase and a near-injury and a criminal's arrest. After brushing the dirt off of her face and her pants, she strode back to the car, checking her phone.

Three missed calls from the daycare and one from Samar.

She panicked, listening to the voicemails, one after the other:

" _Ms. Keen – there's no need to worry, most children need a little time to adjust, but Sara has gotten more and more upset as the day has gone on and she's refusing to take her nap…"_

" _Hi Ms. Keen – it seems that Sara is having a fit of panic like the ones you described. It's been going on for about twenty minutes with no signs of us being able to calm her down. We'll try to get ahold of her secondary contact…"_

" _Ms. Keen, we wanted to let you know that Ms. Navabi was able to calm Sara down and take her home. We hope Sara's able to work through these problems, because we loved having her today…"_

" _Hey, Liz, I'm sure you have a few calls from the daycare so I wanted to call and reassure you that everything's fine. Don't worry. It was close to the end of the day and Cooper didn't need me so I'm taking Sara home now. I'll see you when you get back. Be safe out there."_

She tapped out a text message to Samar and sent it, biting back tears.

 _Thank you so much, I'm so sorry. I'll be home as soon as I can._

By the time she and Ressler made it back to the Post Office, by the time she'd briefed Cooper, by the time she was in her own car, pulling into the Audrey's parking lot, it was nearly eight o'clock and she felt like an absolute failure of a mother.

When she slipped her key into the lock and swung open the door, the apartment was quiet. She exhaustedly dropped her purse onto the floor as if it weighed a hundred pounds. She was so drained that it took extra effort to slide her jacket down her arms and hang it on its hook. She sighed and toed off her boots and turned around, and Samar was there, walking around the corner, smiling at her as if everything were totally a-okay, and suddenly she just _couldn't_.

"I'm _so_ sorry, Samar," Liz whispered brokenly.

Samar shook her head, her brow creased. "I don't mind, Liz. It's fine, I promise," she assured her.

And then Liz was the one shaking her head. "No, no it's not fine. I'm a terrible mother, I can't _do_ this," she admitted, her voice trembling. "I mean, it's eight o'clock and I'm just getting home from work, which I'm _sure_ means Sara's already asleep. How am I ever supposed to pick my child up at a normal time like a real parent? I'm too busy to even answer the fucking phone. My daughter was crying and panicking with strangers and I couldn't even answer the _phone_. I should've _been_ there." Her breaths were coming quicker and shorter, her voice rising unintentionally, as she hovered on the edge of panic.

Samar's hands shot out to her shoulders, gripping them firmly. "Liz. Liz, stop. It's going to take time for everything to adjust, for all the pieces to come together. This is _going_ to work out, I promise you. You just have to give it time."

Liz gulped in air, the tight grip of Samar's fingers on her shoulders helping to quell her growing panic. She forced her head up and down and up and down, hoping that if she imitated the nodding motion, her brain would start to believe everything was fine. She breathed deeply, in and out, until she could speak. "I want to say thank you for everything you did today, but it's not enough," she said sadly, her voice shaking.

"Of course it's enough," Samar replied, smiling in that eye-twinkling, knee-weakening way, before turning away and stepping into the kitchen.

"There's dinner for you if you're hungry," Samar said, her voice floating back through into the entryway, and this piece of information only made Liz feel worse. She closed her eyes and swallowed down the lump in her throat, then walked into the kitchen, watching as Samar pulled a still-warm grilled cheese sandwich from the oven where she'd been keeping it warm and then unwrapping a bowl of tomato soup and slipping it into the microwave.

God, she wanted to kiss her. But instead, she stood numbly next to the counter, unable to do anything but watch Samar take care of her.

And then, after sprinkling some oyster crackers into the now-heated soup, Samar looked over at her and casually asked, "Do you want me to stay tonight?" and Liz nearly crumbled with the need to be close to her.

Yes, she wanted Samar to stay. She wanted Samar to stay forever. She wanted to kiss her and whisper _I love you_ and forget about the meal that had been so lovingly prepared for her.

But instead, she forced herself to shake her head and say, "No, I'll be okay." She forced herself to ignore the hint of disappointment on Samar's face. She thanked her for dinner and walked her to the door. And then she watched her walk away and forced herself to close the door, plunging herself into a dull ache of loneliness that gave her the sudden urge to cry into her tomato soup.

TBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBL

Thankfully, the rest of the week at daycare was incident-free, with Sara's panics once again relegated to the middle of the night. And on Tuesday, one of the employees had recommended a nanny, who Liz immediately decided to hire to pick Sara up every day and take her home in case she were running late at work. Sara seemed to like the young woman, and Liz liked her too. Even though she'd only been with them for two days, it seemed promising, and Liz was starting to feel like Samar was right, that things really would work out if she gave it time and let the pieces come together. She wished she could spend more time with Sara – she felt like she never saw her now that she was back at work – but at least this was a solution for now.

Aram eyed her curiously as she walked straight over to Samar on Thursday morning, two cups of coffee in hand, smiling cheerfully.

Samar looked up as she approached, raising an eyebrow. "Someone's happy this morning," she observed with a smirk.

Liz handed her one of the cups. "Yeah, a bit. I think things might be working themselves out. You were right." She grinned.

"No more daycare incidents?" Samar asked, taking the cup from Liz's hand.

"No more daycare incidents."

"The nanny is going well?"

"The nanny is going well."

"I told you it would work out. And it's only been three days," Samar smiled.

"Yeah, that part kind of worries me. Three days doesn't seem like enough time. Something's bound to go wrong," Liz replied, only slightly joking. Samar glared at her playfully, which instantly made her worry seem entirely unnecessary and dumb, because _obviously_ Samar was right. So she rolled her eyes, and relented: "Okay, okay, I'll _very cautiously_ accept the fact that things are going well."

"Good," Samar said with a resolute nod. "And thank you for this," she added, holding up the cup of coffee in her hand.

"Strong and black, just the way you like it," Liz shrugged, grinning once more as she turned away toward her own office.

Aram was still curiously watching from his own desk, and when Samar noticed, he sheepishly refocused on his computer as quickly as humanly possible.

TBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBL

Reddington had stopped into the Post Office, and after their brief discussion about Sara, Liz was thrilled because she now had a wonderful excuse to invite Samar over the next night. She was sitting at her desk, tapping her pen against her lips over and over, when Samar's smiling face popped around the doorframe, startling her out of her daydream.

"Hey. I'm about to leave. Do you need anything?" Samar asked.

"Oh, um, no, not that I can think of," Liz replied, straightening the papers on the desk in front of her. "I think I'm all set here."

"I meant with Sara. But work too, I suppose," Samar clarified, the hint of a smirk playing at her lips.

Liz could feel her cheeks flushing slightly. "I think I'm all set in that department too. But thank you."

Samar smiled warmly, and then she was saying, "See you tomorrow," and turning away, disappearing from the door.

"Samar, wait," Liz called after her.

"Yeah?" Samar asked, reappearing.

"Would you like to come over tomorrow after work?" Liz asked, absolutely despising how overly formal and nervous she knew she sounded. "Reddington's coming over to hear all about Sara's first week at daycare, and I'm sure she'd love it if you were there too."

"I'll be there," Samar replied instantly, smiling.

Liz beamed. "Good. I'll, uh, see you tomorrow morning."

Samar nodded, murmured, "Goodnight, Liz," and then she was gone.


	9. Chapter 9

Friday dragged by unbearably slowly, each interaction with Samar a bright spot on the otherwise long, unsightly day. Her entire body was thrumming with excitement by the time she arrived home. She wished the nanny a good night and, once she'd left, picked Sara up, swinging her around, animatedly chirping, "Guess who's coming over tonight!"

Sara's eyes widened, twinkling with anticipation. "Auntie Samaw?" she asked immediately, her voice filled with hope.

"Yes, baby girl, Auntie Samar," Liz murmured contentedly, kissing her forehead. "And guess who else?"

Sara stuck her thumb in her mouth, thinking for a moment, tilting her head when she realized who it might be. "Unc-uh Wed?"

Liz chuckled. "Yep, right again. You're two for two. What do you think we should have for dinner?"

By the time she'd changed out of her work clothes, taken Hudson outside, and made dinner, it was six-thirty. Just as she was pulling the lasagna from the oven, the entire apartment brimming with the delicious scent of Italian spices, she heard a knock at the door.

When she pulled it open, Samar was standing there, holding a plate of Saran-wrapped cookies. She smiled, holding it out to her, and said, "I made cookies last night," as if, _duh_ , of _course_ Samar baked because what _didn't_ Samar do, and it was so devastatingly, adorably unexpected that Liz actually had to bite back a snort of laughter, covering her mouth with her hand to hold it in.

Samar raised one eyebrow mischievously, biting her lip in an unsuccessful effort to hide her smile. "Is that _funny_ , Elizabeth?"

And of course this only made Liz laugh harder. "No, of course it's not funny. You're just full of surprises, that's all," she insisted, taking the plate from her hands, and then she found herself leaning in and pressing a quick kiss to Samar's cheek – so quickly that she _almost_ thought she'd only imagined doing it – and added, "Thank you for the cookies, I'm sure they'll be wonderful."

She turned back to the kitchen, plate in hand, ignoring her burning cheeks, and heard Samar close the door before wandering into the apartment. Liz set the cookies on the counter, stood over the stove, and heard Sara squeal, "Auntie Samaw!," heard Samar greet her and put on a noisy show of kissing her all over her face, heard Sara's piercing giggles, and all she could do was stand there and stare down at the lasagna and wonder why tonight felt so… _different_.

TBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBL

Red arrived just after Samar, Liz opening the door for him while Samar set the table. Her heart had warmed at that offer, of course; she loved little moments like that when she could pretend things were different, that they were a real family, that Samar wouldn't go back to her own apartment in a few hours.

Sara ran to the door, nearly as excited to see her Uncle Red as she was her Auntie Samar, which made Liz smile – she was such a happy child despite everything she'd been going through.

Samar shooed Reddington away when he offered to help – she had this under control; this was _her_ territory, _her_ family (except…no, no it wasn't, not _really_ , she had to remind herself yet again).

Liz carried the food to the dining table, dishing portions of lasagna onto everyone's plates, and placed a basket of bread in the center.

"W-ion cup!" Sara exclaimed, reaching her hand aimlessly into the air, bending her fingers in and out of a fist.

"I'll get it," Samar said immediately, then murmured quietly to Liz, "What do you want her to have? Milk?" Liz nodded, her heart doing a flip yet again as Samar disappeared into the kitchen.

Liz got Sara situated in her booster seat and gestured to the chair next to her. "Go ahead and take a seat, Red. Everything's all set."

He nodded and sat down next to Sara just as Liz heard Samar call from the kitchen, "Liz, do you want me to bring this wine out?"

She could feel herself blushing, thrilled with the casual ease and familiarity Samar exhibited moving about her home, and then she subsequently felt Red's scrutinizing eyes on her face. She managed to avoid his inquisitive gaze and replied, "Oh, yeah, that'd be great, thanks. I totally forgot."

Samar came scurrying back from the kitchen, sippy cup and bottle of wine in her hands, and when Liz reached for the wine, Samar shook her head and held the bottle closer to her chest. "Sit," she instructed, handing Sara the lion cup, then beginning to pour wine into the three waiting glasses.

It took a second for Liz to stop staring at her, but she quickly realized that she hadn't, in fact, as per Samar's instructions, sat down, so she did then, turning her attention to Sara in order to distract herself. "So, Sara," she started, watching as the little girl pulled the sippy cup away from her mouth and looked at her, waiting expectantly for her to continue. "Do you want to tell Auntie Samar and Uncle Red about your friend at daycare?"

Liz glanced at Samar, noticing the tiny flicker of a smile on her face as she poured the wine. She quickly looked away again, but noted from the corner of her eye when Samar sat down.

"Heath-uwh muh best fwend," Sara told them, a huge smile on her face.

"Yeah? What do you like about her?" Samar asked, grinning, her hands clasped beneath her chin as she looked lovingly at the little girl.

"She sha-uhs huh toys wif me. And she wuvs wions and puhpuh too!" Sara replied, her tiny fork clutched in her tiny fist.

"If she loves lions, she must be _marvelous_ ," Red remarked with an amused grin.

Liz reached over to cut the small portion of lasagna on Sara's plate into manageable bites, playfully rolling her eyes at Red's comment. "Uncle Red is right about that. And that's very nice that she shares with you. I hope you're sharing with everyone too," Liz said, smiling.

"I sha-uh wif Ky-uh an Emma," Sara replied, looking proud of herself.

"Good girl," Liz murmured, finishing with the lasagna and pointing to the plate. "All right, kiddo, eat up."

Sara stabbed a piece with her fork, clumsily lifting it to her mouth and chewing messily, and Liz turned back to her own meal, taking a sip of her wine.

Samar groaned in delight at her first bite. "This is amazing, Liz."

Liz once again ignored the blush that she knew was creeping across her cheeks. "I'm sure it's not," she smirked. "But I appreciate the compliment."

"It really is quite good, Lizzy. And I've eaten some fine lasagna in my travels. You don't give yourself enough credit," Red told her, tilting his head to the side and sticking another forkful into his mouth.

Samar glanced at Red, then at Liz, raising her eyebrow. "See? The man knows what he's talking about. You should probably listen to him." She turned her gaze back to Red, a conspiratorial glint in her eye. "She has _no faith_ in herself, Reddington. I feel like we need to do something about it." Then, looking back at Liz, a tender, satisfied smile tugging at her lips, she added, "Because she obviously has every reason to believe in herself the way we do."

God, this was _not_ helping the blushing problem. Liz looked down at her plate, cutting off a chunk of lasagna and absentmindedly shuffling it around with her fork. "Thank you," she murmured, forcing herself to look back up at Samar, and then – because it was hard to _stop_ looking at Samar once she'd started – forcing herself to also look at Red, before awkwardly changing the subject.

TBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBL

After they'd eaten, Samar began to clear the plates, piling them into her arms.

"Samar, you're a guest, let me do that," Liz insisted, trying to take them from her.

Samar clutched them more tightly, shaking her head. "It's no problem. It will only take a few minutes," she said, walking into the kitchen before Liz could say anything else. She flipped on the faucet, barely noticing the scalding water flowing over her hands. Why was she doing this to herself? Doing things like setting the table and getting Sara's milk and cleaning the dishes didn't make her a host, no matter how much she tried to trick her brain into thinking she belonged here. She was only making things worse for herself. She was only pushing herself further into denial, further into delusion. She closed her eyes until she felt steam wafting into her face from the sink, and then she dutifully rinsed off each plate and placed them in the dishwasher.

When Samar walked into the living room, she found Sara climbing all over Hudson, Liz and Red seated on the couch laughing, the bottle of wine on the coffee table in front of them. She moved over to the armchair catty-corner from the couch and sat down, feeling a fleeting sense of jealousy and disappointment that she couldn't sit closer to Liz, and then cursing herself for being dumb and juvenile. Liz smiled at her, pouring her more wine, and when she leaned forward to hand her the glass, their eyes locked and she said, "Thanks for all your help tonight," and Samar had to swallow down the lump in her throat before responding, "You're welcome," with a tiny smile on her face that Liz couldn't help but think looked a little sad.

TBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBL

Once Sara's interest in playing with Hudson had waned, Red stood. "I have an idea. Would you like to play a game, Sara?"

"Yeah!" she squealed, nearly jumping up and down with excitement. Red smiled, gathering pillows and cushions and blankets. "I used to play this game with my daughter and she enjoyed it quite a bit," he explained as he tossed the objects around the room. He scooped Sara up, his eyes twinkling as he hurriedly stepped onto one of the blankets. "Oh my heavens, the carpet is the ocean and we can't fall in!"

Liz and Samar laughed as Sara quickly caught on, delighted by this new game. Red turned around, Sara in his arms, and pointed at Samar. "Look, Samar's legs are in the water!" he gasped.

"Auntie Samaw, get outta da wat-uh!" Sara giggled.

Samar chuckled. "Okay, okay!" she said, pulling her legs onto the chair, hugging her knees to her chest. "I'm safe," she assured them, glancing over at Liz.

Liz giggled, grinning at her, her nose crinkling in amusement, and then she scooted across the couch and hopped onto a nearby pillow, huddling carefully on top of it as if she were in grave danger of falling into the sea. "I made it," she sighed in mock relief. "Where are we going?"

Red turned, pointing to the opposite end of the room. "We have to make it over there. Think we can do it, Sara?" he asked, looking down at her.

She nodded enthusiastically, kicking her feet impatiently. Red set her down and stepped onto the next cushion over. Liz leaped to one pillow, then the next, and then turned back to Sara, holding out her hands. "Come on, kid, catch up! I'll help you."

Sara crept to the edge of the blanket she was standing on, her toes wiggling at the edge. She stared at the closest pillow, concentrating as if this were a life or death matter, and then jumped with every ounce of her might.

"Yay!" Liz cheered, throwing her arms into the air. "You made it!"

Sara clapped her hands together, giggling, and then jumped again, this time toward Red.

Liz glanced over at Samar. "You can't get out of this, Samar," she playfully chided, pretending to glare at her.

"Fine, if I must," Samar replied, with an exaggerated roll of her eyes. She took a sip of her wine, placing it on the coffee table, and then stood up on the chair. She looked around, analyzing her possibilities, then jumped over to the couch, walked across it, and held up her hands in question. "Which way should I go, Sara?"

Sara turned, pursing her little lips in thought for a moment, and then she pointed at the blanket where she and Red had started. "Good plan," Samar replied, hopping over to the blanket. She watched as Sara focused, crouching down and leaping onto another cushion.

Liz and Samar's eyes met and Liz had an idea. "Uh oh, I think Auntie Samar might be out to get us. Don't let her catch you, Sara!" She looked at Sara, whose eyes grew wide as she squealed, jumping to the next blanket and giggling, "Don' catch me, Auntie Samaw!" Liz glanced back to Samar, biting her lip to keep herself from laughing as Samar raised an eyebrow at Sara, informing her, "Well, you'll just have to be faster than I am!" before leaping to the next pillow, making Sara squeal even louder.

"Come here, I'll save you!" Liz exclaimed, holding out her hands and crouching down.

"Don't worry, ladies, I won't let her catch you," Red added, stepping a cushion closer in an effort to block Samar, who simply smirked at him in reply.

"Thank you, Red, that's very kind of you," Liz laughed as Sara scrambled across the three pillows separating them and into her arms. She lifted her up, noting that Samar had moved closer and was grinning wickedly. "Oh no," Liz gasped, "She's getting closer!" Sara screamed and giggled as Liz leapt to the next cushion and then the next.

"Oh, no, you don't!" Samar laughed, skipping across objects as if they were a path of stones across a stream.

Liz and Sara hopped and jumped and leapt, Samar right behind them, until they were trapped on a cushion in the corner. Liz looked around, feigning fright. "Uh oh. She trapped us, Sara. Auntie Samar trapped us!" she squeaked.

"Noooo!" Sara cried out, still giggling happily, enjoying the game despite the setback. Liz stared at Samar, and Samar stared right back at her, her eyes narrowing, her lips twisting in mirth.

"Don't even think about it," Liz warned, but of course it was useless.

Samar leapt to their cushion, grabbing Liz's shoulders so she and Sara wouldn't fall off the small island, all of them laughing and laughing and laughing. Liz's heart was so light she felt she might float away as Samar's warmth and scent and laugh enveloped her. She dropped her forehead to Samar's shoulder, forgetting that maybe she shouldn't, and then Red was there, one pillow over, grinning curiously and lifting a squealing, giggling Sara from Liz's arms.

To be honest, Liz hardly noticed, her focus almost entirely on Samar's proximity. She felt Samar's hand slip down her arm; felt herself involuntarily reach for Samar's hip, her waist, any part of her that she could reach. And then Liz lifted her forehead and when she saw the expression on Samar's face, her laughter began to ebb and fade away.

It was something like…adoration and joy and fear and despair and utter heartbreak all rolled into one, and Liz could swear she saw an extra gleam in her eyes that hadn't been there a minute ago, but then Samar looked down and cleared her throat and stepped away, muttering about needing to go to the bathroom.

Liz watched her walk away, standing still as a statue, nearly breathless, on her cushion, and then watched Red as he sat down on the couch with Sara and picked up her favorite book.

She stood and waited, time frozen around her, wishing Samar would come back, and then she somehow managed to remind herself that the game was over, managed to realize that she should move.


	10. Chapter 10

Liz felt shaky as she made her way across the room, gathering pillows and cushions and blankets and piling them beside the couch. She sat down, pulling her legs up beneath her, watching Red with Sara. They were an entertaining pair, and Liz couldn't help the small smile that flashed across her face despite the tornado brewing inside her.

She sat and waited and waited and waited, her heart racing and aching, positively _needing_ Samar to come back. She'd been in the bathroom for _way_ too long – and just as Liz had that thought, she heard Samar passing behind her and slipping out onto the balcony, seemingly unnoticed by Red and Sara.

She forced herself to wait one minute, then two, then three, and then she _couldn't_ wait anymore. So she uncurled her legs from underneath her and stood, murmuring to Red, "I'll be right back," noting his answering nod, and then moving her feet one in front of the other again and again over to the wall of windows, pulling the curtain across to give them some privacy, until she, too, was outside on the balcony, sliding the door closed behind her. She turned around slowly, leaving one hand on the handle, hesitant.

Samar was looking out into the night, her forearms resting on the railing. Her hair was in a ponytail, but strands of curls had loosened during their game and were now blowing in the cool breeze.

Liz waited, unsure. But Samar didn't move. She didn't turn toward her. She didn't speak.

So Liz stepped forward, wrapping a hand around the railing. She cautiously looked in Samar's direction, but Samar had turned her head away slightly, in the opposite direction, avoiding her gaze.

Liz swallowed down her nerves. "Samar?"

"Can you, um- can you just give me a minute?"

Her voice was shaking, uncertain, breathy and broken. Liz's heart lurched in her chest. She didn't know what to do. She wanted to give Samar the space she'd asked for, but she couldn't bring herself to leave. So instead she simply stood there, next to her, gripping both hands around the railing, not moving, not speaking. Ragged, harsh puffs of breath and occasional sniffles were the only sounds breaking the silence surrounding them.

Finally, Liz couldn't take it anymore. She clenched her fingers more tightly around the metal, and took a stabilizing breath. "Samar, what's going on?" she whispered.

"Nothing," Samar replied quickly. "I'm fine."

Liz nearly rolled her eyes at her stubbornness. "You're _not_ fine. Please talk to me?" she suggested tentatively, waiting patiently until Samar finally turned toward her, allowing her to see the tears on her cheeks, the vulnerability in her eyes.

Liz's brow creased and she placed her hand gently on Samar's shoulder, squeezing softly, which only made Samar's face twist and crumple, fresh tears slipping down her cheeks.

Liz instinctively brought her other hand to rest on Samar's forearm. "What's wrong, Samar?" she murmured.

Samar swallowed down her sobs, trying to get herself under control and wiping the tears from her cheeks before looking back out over the city. She stared into the distance, at the buildings across the Potomac, as if distancing herself from the balcony would make it easier to admit the things she didn't want to admit.

"Being here… with you and Sara-" She closed her eyes, the breeze drying the tear tracks on her cheeks. "It makes me feel like I'm part of a family."

Liz felt sure her heart was beating loud enough to hear in the silence stretching between them as she waited for Samar to continue.

Samar took a deep breath, unable to bring herself to look at anything other than the darkness behind her eyelids. She considered herself a fairly brave person, but it took ages for her to gather enough courage to get to the heart of the matter: "It hurts knowing I'll never be a real part of _your_ family." She swallowed, squeezing her eyes even more tightly shut, and then she whispered, "I wish I could be."

Liz's entire body felt weak, shaky, unsteady. Dizzy, buzzing, she gripped Samar's arm harder and whispered the first words that came to her mind, the most obvious words in the world, the ones she'd been dying to say for a week, because she simply couldn't stop herself anymore: "I'm falling in love with you, Samar."

 _That_ certainly got her attention. Samar's head snapped toward Liz, her eyes wide, frantic, scared. Her lips parted and she opened and closed her mouth again and again, studying Liz's face, before finally whispering in disbelief, " _What_?"

The reaction simultaneously filled Liz with hope and trepidation, her chest inflating with anxiety. _Oh god, what if that's not what she meant, what if, what if, what if…_ But she forced herself to keep her eyes trained on Samar's, forced herself to continue. There was no going back now.

"I, um… I'm falling in love with you," Liz repeated, her voice wavering despite her best efforts to keep it steady. She paused, nervously averting her eyes for a moment, and then took a deep, calming breath before looking at Samar again. When she continued, her voice was stronger, steadier, in spite of her fear. "I'm probably _already_ in love with you. I mean, the way you make me feel is like-" A joyous laugh bubbled from her throat. "I love you, Samar. I miss you when you're not here, and you make me feel _safe_ , you feel like _home_ , and-"

And then Liz couldn't speak because Samar's lips were on hers, kissing her eagerly, then more gently, then firmly, hungrily, and Samar's hands were cupping her face, her fingers threading back into her hair, and Liz felt herself spiral away into oblivion, parting her lips and whimpering into Samar's mouth, wrapping her arms around her waist, pulling her closer and closer until she was as close as she could possibly get and it _still_ wasn't enough.

Nothing existed outside of this moment: the feel of Samar's lips on her own, Samar's hands in her hair, Samar's tongue slipping into her mouth, Samar's heavy breaths between kisses, Samar's desperately murmured, "I love you, too, Liz, I've been in love with you for so long."

Eventually, when she was nearly seeing spots, Liz pulled back enough to catch her breath, closing her eyes and pressing her forehead against Samar's, reaching up to stroke her curls. "You love me?" she asked, laughing breathlessly at the absurdity of it all. She felt Samar nod against her. "I had no idea. I never thought-" A relieved tear slid from her eye and she took a shaky breath. "This is why I've been so miserable lately, crying myself to sleep- I didn't know you felt the same way," she admitted quietly.

Liz felt Samar's overwhelmed huff of laughter against her lips. "Me too. I assumed my feelings would always be one-sided, and it was _killing_ me," Samar murmured. "Never in a million years did I think you would love me. To be honest, I thought you were straight." Another breathy laugh fell from her lips.

"I thought so too," Liz whispered, grinning, "but I guess it doesn't matter when you find the right person." She kissed Samar softly, holding her close, nuzzling their noses together. She heard and felt Samar's breath catch, and the sniffled inhale through her nose. "Please don't cry anymore," Liz breathed against her lips, kissing the corner of her mouth, her jaw, the spot just below her ear.

Samar's arms slipped around her, clutching at her desperately. "I can't believe this is happening," she whispered into Liz's hair as she felt warm lips slowly wandering down her neck.

"I know," Liz mumbled against her skin, "me neither." When she finally pulled back, tears were still sliding down Samar's cheeks, so she kissed away each one, then tangled her fingers in Samar's curls, a smile brightening her face. "Just in case this wasn't already clear, you are a real part of this family, Samar," Liz told her decisively, her thumb brushing back and forth across Samar's temple. "You _are_ my family – you and Sara and Hudson. We wouldn't be the same without you."

More tears fell from Samar's eyes. She tried to blink them away, a joyful, breathy laugh escaping her, entirely overwhelmed. "I thought you wanted me to _stop_ crying," she mumbled playfully.

Liz giggled, leaning her forehead against Samar's again. "Yeah, but I also kind of want to say 'I love you' about, ohh…eighty-seven more times to make up for all the times I wanted to say it and couldn't."

"I know the feeling," Samar replied, trying to stop crying, trying to stop laughing, and failing at both.

"Will you sleep over tonight?" Liz asked nervously.

"Abso-fucking- _lutely_ ," Samar said, as if she were relieved, as if she'd been anxiously waiting for Liz to ask.

Liz dissolved into laughter, practically snorting, before kissing her again and again, smiling against her mouth. "And maybe lots of other nights too?" she whispered, her lips brushing against Samar's as she spoke.

"Obviously," Samar whispered back.

"Okay, good," Liz said, before sighing in resignation. "I suppose we should go back inside."

"The sooner we go back inside, the sooner Reddington leaves and the sooner Sara is asleep," Samar replied, pulling back an inch, a smirk on her face.

Liz bit her lip, grinning. "I like the way you think, Navabi." She reached for Samar's hand and began to tug her toward the door, but Samar stopped her, pulling on her hand until she turned back around.

"Wait. How do you want to do this? Do you want Reddington to know? Or Sara?" Samar asked, suddenly nervous, worried.

"You're really very cute, you know that?" Liz smiled softly, tilting her head as she regarded Samar's expression, and then stepped toward her, grazing her fingers along her cheekbone. "I don't really care if Red knows, and I think Sara will notice at some point. Let's just maybe refrain from making out in front of them. At least for tonight," she smirked.

A beautiful blush spread across Samar's cheeks and she nodded, squeezing Liz's hand and lifting it up to place a kiss on her pale skin. "I'm going to keep holding your hand, if it's okay with you," she said, beaming.

"Please do," Liz replied, before turning around and pulling Samar back inside behind her.

Red glanced up, smiling at them absently as they walked in, and immediately did a double take, his voice tapering off mid-sentence as he lost his place in the story he was reading to Sara. He cleared his throat and quickly regained his infamous composure, a smirk tugging at his features when he spoke: "Hello ladies, nice of you to rejoin us."

Liz simply smiled, not taking the bait, as they walked toward the couch, hand in hand. She sat down, and Samar sat right beside her, leaving no space between them. This was so much better than the previous weekend when she'd so 'bravely' sat near Samar's feet, she thought to herself as she reached over to stroke Sara's hair. The little girl hadn't paid much attention when they'd entered the room, sleepily leaning into Red's chest, and there she remained, her finger hooked into her mouth. "Stuh-wy," she mumbled at him.

He chuckled and kissed her on the top of her head, before resuming where he'd left off: something about a lion befriending a snake. Liz had read this one before; Red was close to the beginning, so they must've just started it. She continued stroking Sara's hair, turning her body slightly to face them.

And then the moment became complete as she felt Samar's arms winding around her stomach, her chin resting on her shoulder. She allowed herself to lean back into Samar, letting the curve of her spine melt into Samar's chest, and in that moment, she knew she was home.

TBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBL

Later, after Liz had drifted into a light sleep in Samar's arms, after they'd said goodbye to Reddington, each receiving a knowing hug, after Hudson had been taken outside for a brief walk, after they'd given Sara a bath, after they'd read her one more story, this time in her rocking chair, and after they'd left her asleep in her crib, they were alone.

Liz pulled the covers down and collapsed into her bed, sighing contentedly. She smiled up at Samar, reaching for her hand, and when she took it, Liz tugged gently until Samar was sinking into the bed beside her, her loose curls fanning across the pillow as she got comfortable.

Liz rolled onto her side, facing Samar, and ran her hand down to Samar's waist, then around to her back, pulling herself closer, nuzzling her face into Samar's neck, pressing a soft kiss onto her pulse. "This is all I wanted to do last weekend, when you were asleep in my bed. I wanted to hold you, just like this," she mumbled against Samar's skin. She felt Samar's lips in her hair, her hand tracing up and down her spine, and she nearly cried, the beauty of the moment overwhelming her. "I've loved you all along, I think. I was just too stupid and stubborn to realize it," Liz admitted, feeling Samar's arm tighten around her.

"All along, huh?" Samar echoed softly. "Me too," she whispered into Liz's hair.

Liz pulled back enough to be able to look into her eyes, reaching up to trace one finger along the side of her face, tucking a curl behind her ear. "I'm sorry I was so awful to you in the beginning. That was my subconscious' incredibly immature way of avoiding my attraction to you."

"Yeah?" Samar asked, raising an eyebrow mischievously.

Liz grinned, leaning in as if she needed to prove her attraction yet again, kissing Samar greedily, nibbling on her bottom lip, then whispering, "Yeah," before pulling back slightly, still close enough to feel Samar's warm puffs of breath against her face as she recovered from the kiss. Liz continued her explanation just as Samar's eyes fluttered open: "I developed feelings the more we worked together, and I became meaner to avoid dealing with them. So I'm sorry." She smiled apologetically.

Samar shrugged, a small smile gracing her features. "You saved my life, so I forgave you. No hard feelings."

"Good. I'm glad," Liz murmured, relieved, kissing the tip of Samar's nose.

"So when exactly did you realize that your hatred was, in fact, love?" Samar asked with a smirk.

Liz snorted, but decided the question deserved an answer. "After we found Sara. It was impossible to ignore the fact that you had always been there for me. When we moved into this place, I couldn't stop thinking about you. Every single night. It was like a really important piece was missing when you weren't here." Samar smiled at her in that heart-melting, knee-weakening way, and Liz had to bite her lip, glad she was already lying down. "Remember the night I texted you 'cause I couldn't sleep?"

Samar nodded.

"Remember how I disappeared and left you hanging for awhile with no response?"

Samar nodded again.

"That was the exact moment," Liz whispered, brushing her lips lightly against Samar's.

Samar pressed forward, kissing her more soundly, then rolled them over until she was hovering above her. "Do you want to know the moment I knew?" she whispered.

Liz nodded beneath her, running her hands up and down Samar's sides again and again.

"The Dr. Creel case. The warrior gene," Samar told her without hesitation. "That's when I knew I loved you. That it was more than just attraction."

"Samar…" Liz breathed, her voice breaking, her eyes stinging with tears, but Samar only shook her head, leaning down to kiss her softly.

"That's when I knew, Liz. Because I understood, because we're both dysfunctional and damaged. I realized that I wanted to be the one to fill in the empty places in your heart, and that you were the only person I wanted to fill in mine."

A tear slid down Liz's cheek as she whispered, "I'm sorry it took me so long to figure it out."

"It doesn't matter," Samar replied, shaking her head. "This is perfect. You're perfect." And then she was slipping her hands beneath Liz's shirt, pushing it up as her fingers slid up her stomach and over her bra, and then her hair was falling across Liz's chest and her lips were tracing patterns on her stomach, and Liz could hear her own breathing quicken, could feel her heartbeat tripping in her chest.

Samar pulled back just enough to look her in the eyes, gripping her shirt between her fingers. "Can I?" she asked hesitantly. Liz nodded, lifting her arms, and the material was pulled off of her body and tossed to the side, forgotten.

Samar cupped Liz's face in her hand, gazing down at her. "You're so beautiful," she murmured, leaning in and kissing her deeply. "And brave." Another kiss, a little shorter this time. "And strong." Another. "And loyal." Another. "And loving." Another. "I love you."

Liz had officially turned into a pile of mush, and she honestly wasn't sure if she was more emotional or turned on. A few tears managed to slip down her cheeks, but by the time Samar's lips had trailed their way along her jaw, down her neck, across her collarbone, and between her breasts, she was fully gone, lost in Samar's warmth and love.

TBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBL

Later, when Sara woke up crying in the middle of the night, it didn't take as long as usual to calm her and get her back to sleep, and Liz and Samar slipped back into bed, tear-free, falling asleep in each other's arms, so happy, everything finally falling into place.

TBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBL

Later, after a few months of dating and many, _many_ sleepovers, Liz asked Samar if she would officially move in, and Samar cried, so happy, everything finally falling into place.

TBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBL

Later, months and months after Samar had moved in, Sara's night panics finally stopped, and she finally, _finally_ , called Liz her "mama," not "Mama Wiz," and she and Samar both cried, so happy, everything finally falling into place.

TBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBL

Later, much later, Samar asked Liz to marry her, and when Liz said yes, throwing her arms around her neck, Samar holding her so tightly, they both cried again, so happy, everything finally falling into place.

TBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBL

Later, a year later to be exact, Reddington walked them both down the aisle, one on each side, and they stood in front of all of their friends and said "I do," and as soon as they shared their first kiss as wife and wife, Sara ran up from her place beside Aram in the front row, and a beaming Samar picked her up, and Liz wrapped her arms around both of them, and they were so happy.

Everything had finally fallen into place.


End file.
